I Can See the Green Light
by ThePenWieldingRose
Summary: He was always reaching out to the green light, to Daisy...until someone came with a green light in her eyes, a heart of gold, and all the love he could ever ask for. But will he realize that the green light is already in front of him before it's too late? Gatsby/OC, Nick/OC.
1. The Newcomer

**A/N: **Argh! I got distracted XP Anyhow, I love this movie and book and I hate how it ends. So I've fallen victim to writing fanfiction on how it could have ended if there was someone else to help. Anyways, I hope you all will enjoy it and please let me know what you think! :) Enjoy!

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**The Great Gatsby – I Can See the Green Light**

_Chapter One – The Newcomer_

The train trudged on, rickety and puffing thick, black smoke as the passengers within grumbled about the heat. Sitting complacently by an open window of the car was a girl, gently turning the page of a favorite book.

"Can I get something for you, Miss?" asked a waiter as he scanned the aisles.

Glancing up, she shook her head at the older gentleman. "No, thank you."

Noting how she was dressed, he gave her an odd look and walked away.

Blush came to her cheeks as she realized once more that she didn't fit in with these people. Self-conscious now, she reached for her braided hair resting upon her shoulder and gripped it. Her plaid dress did nothing to help her confidence, nor did her worn brown work boots. With a frown, she softly kicked her lonely suitcase and sighed. Letting her emerald eyes drift past her clothes and out the window, she rested her elbow against the sill and placed her cheek upon her hand.

As the train finally came to a halt at the station, she was stunned to see their stop was in what appeared to be a valley of ashes. Men toiled and slaved away as thick columns of smoke filled the sky. Off in the distance, a billboard with a set of bespectacled eyes gazed down upon her, the name "Dr. T. J. Eckleburg" faded on the broken, peeling sign. Stepping off the train and onto the platform, the young woman gripped her suitcase and purse as she made her way down into the dirty, filth-filled area, hoping to catch a cab into the city.

"Evelyn?! Evelyn Keller?!"

Hearing the familiar voice, the girl stopped in her tracks, her head swiveling around as she struggled to locate the source of the voice. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the young man who called out to her, making his way past the crowd and standing before her. "Nick Carraway! I haven't seen you in years!" she laughed, setting her bags down so she might embrace him.

The man chuckled, returning the gesture and accepting a chaste kiss on the cheek before pulling back. "Let me look at you! You've grown since the last time we saw each other!"

"Just before you left to join the war," Evelyn nodded, tossing her coppery hair over her shoulder. "How did you know I was coming?"

"Your mother phoned my mother and she phoned me, asking if I would come and make sure you were well taken care of," he grinned, winking at her.

Giggling, she shook her head and grabbed her bags once more. "I appreciate that, Nick, but you don't need to worry."

"Oh? And where were you planning on staying?" he asked, taking her luggage from her before walking down to a waiting cab.

"I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "But I knew I wanted to come here and try to make it on my own."

"That's what I've been hearing," Nick nodded with a wry smile. "I've come with the same intentions."

"That's right. How's the bond business?" she grinned, accepting his help as they entered the vehicle.

"It's all right," he answered, nodding for the driver to move. "I'm doing fairly well in it, so I guess that's all that really matters. Now then, about your lodgings-"

"I'll be alright, don't worry," she tried to wave it off but he gave a look that made her stop.

"You're a dear friend to me, Eve, I don't want anything happening to you. I'll let you go about your business and search for a job or whatever it is you want to do here, but you'll be staying with me."

She blinked, stunned by the finality in his voice. "Are you sure, Nick? I could rent a-"

"I'm certain," he said, running his fingers through his slicked back chestnut hair. "There's a guest room at the cottage I'm staying at in West Egg. Don't worry, I'll give you your space. I just want to be sure you're all right. Besides, both our mothers would kill us if anything happened to you."

Laughing, she embraced him, causing his cheeks to go bright red. "Ok, you win, Carraway. Thanks for this."

"Forget it," he brushed it off, offering her a smile. The smile turned into a small grimace as he scratched the back of his neck and confessed, "Listen…I need to go straight away to visit my cousin…they're expecting me for dinner. I already told them I'd be coming and that you'd be there, too, so-"

"You sure know how to make a girl feel welcomed, Mr. Carraway," laughed Evelyn. "I'm excited. But what's with the face?"

"Nothing, it's just…you remember my cousin Daisy, don't you?"

"Of course!"

"Well, she's married…the man's name is Tom Buchanan. I went to Yale with him. He's sort of a…"

"Brute?" finished Evelyn, recalling an article in the newspaper years ago and hearing gossip on the train from some folks who were returning home.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," admitted Nick, his blue eyes falling upon her once more. "I'll do my best to keep him away and stop him, but he says what he thinks and he's not very fond of 'poor' people."

"I think I can manage," she winked. "I'm sure it'll be just fine."

**~JG~**

"Brute" was too kind a word to describe a man like Tom Buchanan. The moment they arrived at the lavish East Egg estate, he was imposing, selfish, and rowdy, his booming voice overwhelming at times. Daisy, on the other hand, was light and airy, but she reminded Evelyn of a bird, oftentimes distracted or distressed easily and constantly striving to change the subject into something of little consequence.

Nick and Evelyn weren't the only visitors there, however. Arriving at the Buchanan estate and entering the house, they were escorted by Tom until they met Daisy and her two friends. The first was a tall, pale, sarcastic woman, her dark hair cut short and sharply framing her face. She held herself with a certain grace and seemed to have a "pooh-pooh" attitude. Jordan Baker was not one for "how-do-you-dos" and was already well-known for being an ambitious golfer. The other girl was much younger, her skin creamy and her hair a delicious caramel brown hue, her ringlets cascading down her bare shoulders. Her stormy grey-blue eyes shone playfully at them, though she, too, wore a careless face.

"Desiree Lancaster," she introduced herself, getting up off the settee and offering her hand to Evelyn and then Nick.

"Pleased to meet you," Evelyn smiled back politely. "I'm Evelyn Keller."

"Nick Carraway," the young man stammered, smiling bashfully at the girl.

"Des is my little cousin," Jordan Baker explained with a shrug of her lean shoulders.

"Let's eat, shall we?" Daisy smiled, her expression not quite reaching her eyes.

Everyone took their places at once and Evelyn was soon grateful for she found that her stomach was gnawing with hunger from her trip. The topic flip-flopped from current events to people from the past to a butler in the Buchanan household who had some terrible secret about his nose.

"Nicky, I thought you were going to get married!" Daisy gasped gaily, winking at him.

"It was a rumor," he reassured her. "I'm too poor."

"Oh, but you're just a darling!" she cooed as she sipped her wine. "Maybe one of these days I'll fling you and Jordan into a closet or leave you stranded at sea. You can have a little affair!"

"Please, Daisy, you're making me feel so uncivilized," Nick said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. "Couldn't we talk about crops or something?"

"Y'know, the whole world is falling apart," Tom said out of nowhere.

"Oh boy," Desiree muttered rolling her eyes. Noticing how Evelyn raised an eyebrow at her, she tilted her head slightly and whispered, "Tom's going into a rant about how we need to keep other races in line."

And he most certainly did, going on for nearly a whole minute on how he was superior compared to his Negro servants.

"We've got to beat them down," Daisy whispered, winking at Nick playfully. Evelyn was starting to wonder if this woman took anything seriously.

"Say, Evelyn, is it?" Tom said, his rant coming to a jarring halt. "Where're you from, anyhow?"

"Kansas," she answered politely, continuing to eat. "Why do you ask?"

"You don't sound like you're from Kansas," he stated, staring at her curiously.

"I get that a lot, actually. My father was a farmer and my mother originally came from Philadelphia. She was from a well-off family and when she met my father she left everything and married him. She took care of most of my schooling, actually, since she was a teacher."

"Teacher, huh?" Jordan chuckled. "Good with brats, then?"

"You said your father 'was' a farmer," Desiree cut in, coolly checking her nails. "What's he now?"

The corner of Evelyn's mouth twitched upward as her eyes dimmed. "He's dead."

Immediately, Desiree's uncaring face turned to her, sadness shining in her stormy-hued eyes. "…I'm sorry."

Evelyn placed her hand on her shoulder for a moment before shrugging. "Thank you."

"And your mother? Where's she?" Tom asked, taking another swig from his glass.

"Back home with my step-father." She couldn't help but feel a little drowsy from speaking with these people. They made life seem so dull she wondered if she should've stayed behind like her step-father told her to.

"What made you want to come to New York?" Daisy prompted, resting her cheek against her fist daintily.

"Well…you'll think it's silly," she said, looking down at her plate. She wasn't even comfortable mentioning this to Nick. The truth was that she was so intimidated by her step-father's warnings and doubts that she was starting to think it was stupid of her to state what she dreamed of.

"Try us," Nick grinned, curious to hear what she was hiding.

Inhaling deeply, she held her breath, the others waiting for her response. "…I'd like to find a job, even a small one, so that…I could sing."

Tom's harsh, booming laugh nearly made her jump out of her seat as he gave a cruel grin. "Good luck, missy! People don't just hire amateurs off the street like that!" he snapped his fingers. Shaking his head, he smirked at her. "I suppose you thought Broadway was going to take you with open arms?"

Though her cheeks flushed bright pink, she narrowed her shining green eyes at him, bewildering him for a moment. "I never said that-"

The shrill cry of the telephone in the neighboring room filled the air, cutting her off. A servant stepped in and stated that the call was for Tom from some mechanic's shop. He stalked off, suddenly stiff.

Daisy watched him with frustrated, hurt eyes before turning and smiling at Nick. "Oh, Nicky, I love having you at my table. You're like…a rose! An absolute rose." She giggled at what she'd said when she suddenly got up and ran off in pursuit of her husband.

Baffled, Nick turned to his childhood friend and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll do great. I remember when you used to sing at Sunday school."

"Don't mind Tom, he's a hulking brute," Desiree added with a nod, startling the two of them. She winked at the Midwestern pair, causing Evelyn to smile and Nick to blush.

Jordan, on the other hand, got up and tip-toed to the door, inclining her head slightly so.

Awkwardly, Nick called to her. "Miss Baker, aren't you-?"

"Shh!" she shushed them. "Quiet. I want to hear what they're saying."

Nick raised an eyebrow at her, perplexed. "Is there something going on?"

"You mean you didn't know?" Jordan asked, amazed at his naivety. A small smirk seemed to grace her face as she whispered to them, "Tom's got some woman in New York."

Evelyn's eyes widened in shock as she turned to see Desiree. The younger girl simply nodded, wrinkling her nose in disapproval as she twirled her fork mindlessly.

Jordan suddenly hurried back to her seat and struck a nonchalant pose as Daisy and Tom stepped back in to join them, both looking strained and irritated. Watching them with interest and pity, Evelyn had the feeling that things were not well in paradise…

**~JG~**

After dinner, they had all dispersed into their own little groups. Jordan remained with Tom in the living room, discussing strategies on how to win the next tournament; Daisy dragged Nick out to the gardens, prattling on and on about how they barely saw each other and how they knew so little about one another; Desiree wandered through the halls, showing Evelyn each room with little interest or concern.

"Jordan says it's a miracle they're still together," Desiree commented, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I have to agree. Daisy's so out of it and Tom's such a cad that I can't believe they have a daughter."

"They have a child?!" Evelyn nearly shouted, but kept her voice to a low gasp.

The other girl laughed gaily at her new friend's reaction. "Oh yes, she's out with the nanny right now, that's why you haven't seen her. But anyways, if you need help with anything, Eve – can I call you Eve? – just phone me."

"That's awfully kind of you," Evelyn smiled, seeing through the cool demeanor the rich girl had.

Stopping at an open window, they gazed out at the stars above. In the distance, New York twinkled like a jewelry box, and the water of the bay gleamed magically. Off in the distance, where West Egg lay, a rather grand house sparkled and shone like a gem, tantalizing to the eye. In the corner of her eye, Evelyn could see the blinking glow that came from the green light on Daisy's dock.

"How did you and Mr. Carraway meet, anyhow, Eve?" Desiree asked, curling a strand of her caramel locks on one long finger.

"We've known each other since childhood, actually," the other responded with a smile. "Nick's like a big brother to me. He's so easy to talk to and get along with, and he's very protective. But he's a real gentleman and he loves spending time with people that matter to him."

"Hmm." Desiree nodded politely, her eyes staring off blankly at the water.

"What about you? Are you and Jordan close?" Evelyn asked, taking a step back when Desiree snickered.

"She's been with my family lately to get away from some aunt she used to live with. Now that she's professional, my father recommended that I spend time with her, especially since she's in New York for the time being. We barely knew each other about a month ago. She's not bad, she's just really boring."

Evelyn kept her lips shut, preferring not to get involved in someone's opinion of another she barely knew.

"I hate this high society stuff," Desiree said suddenly with fierce scorn. "I grew up in it and I've become part of it. It's so stiff and fake, not that the new, self-made rich are any better but at least they try to throw parties and have a little more fun with their lives. Being here…I feel trapped." Throwing her curl over her shoulder, she put on a careless smile and said, "But never mind me, Eve. Tell me about yourself. What's Kansas like?"

"Well, it's not New York," Evelyn smirked. "It's been dry and dust for some time now. Farming isn't all that great at the moment, at least not where I live. But we have each other…when my father died, my mother remarried."

"You don't like him?" she inquired, noting how the young woman's voice changed tone.

"Don't misunderstand me, Jeremiah is a good, honest, and hardworking man," Evelyn explained. "But…my father, Henry, he was…supportive of my imagination and crazy dreams. He was always hopeful, determined, and never gave up. Jeremiah…he always criticized the idea of me leaving on my own and actually having any success. He's realistic and says I should stay on the farm and get married to someone as soon as possible."

"And you don't want to?"

"Oh, I do. I want to get married, but…I want to find the right man. I want to fall in love-"

"Love only happens in fairytales here," Desiree shook her head.

"Well, I believe in fairytales," Evelyn stated stubbornly. "I'm going to have an adventure and find love and try new things while I'm here before I decide whether or not I'll go back."

To her surprise, Desiree tilted her head back and laughed, her eyes shining with admiration and delight. "You know, I really do hope you find all that…and maybe more. Do you mind if I join you on this 'adventure'?"

Evelyn grinned, taking the girl's hand in her own. "That'd be wonderful."

**~JG~**

The ride back to West Egg was spent talking about the Buchanans mostly and how unsatisfied they seemed with everything. Evelyn was appalled at how droll and curt they were with just about everything, especially Tom.

"Don't mind them," Nick suggested. "They really aren't so bad-"

"To be perfectly frank, Nick, the only person I really found relatable was Desiree Lancaster. Jordan was cold, Daisy seemed to be on the moon half the time, and Tom is – what was it Desiree said? – a hulking brute."

Nick had to laugh at his friend's words, amused at how intrigued she was with this new culture she was so unfamiliar with. "It seems you made a new friend today."

Evelyn smiled at the memory of the beautiful girl with walls built up around her, a door now opening to a Midwestern stranger. "Desiree is so much more than she seems. She acts cold like Jordan but she's got a warm heart underneath all that lace and chiffon. She said to call her up and get together soon. Y'know, she asked a lot of questions about you, Nick."

His face instantly turned red and she couldn't help herself as she clutched her sides at his bewildered, embarrassed face.

"D-Don't be ridiculous!" he scoffed, looking away as he ran his fingers through his hair several times.

Gazing out through the window, Evelyn could see the silhouette of the grand estate next to Nick's house. It shone gloriously and even at this distance she could hear band music and laughter. "Nick, isn't that the Gatsby mansion?"

Looking over her shoulder and peering through the glass, he nodded the affirmative. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Desiree told me he throws huge parties every week, said she went to one two weeks ago. She told he's a mysterious man that no one knows anything about, but there are all sorts of colorful rumors." Just the mention of his name had her skin covered in goose bumps. There was something magical about his name. Turning her head, she looked at him, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Have you seen him?"

Nick shook his head, the same inquisitive look shining in his eyes as he stared at the nearing structure. "No…not really. I think I saw him once on his dock, looking out across the bay, but I looked away for a moment and when I checked for him, he was gone."

"Oooh, a ghost," she teased, waggling her fingers at his, causing him to chuckle and crack a smile. "Haven't you ever gone over to greet him?"

"Never had the time," he shrugged. "And I didn't want to be rude by just appearing to see whether or not he was home."

Evelyn nodded, an idea nagging at her mind. She remained silent for the next few minutes until they reach Nick's cottage, the notion churning and flipping in her mind over and over again. When at last they stepped out of the cab, she had come to a decision…but first things first. Grabbing her suitcase, she smiled brightly at Nick's home.

"It's just adorable! Like a cottage from a painting!"

"It's a shack, really," he grinned modestly, pleased that she approved. Paying the driver, he helped her inside and offered her something to drink.

"A cup of tea would be nice, but I'll make it," she said, ignoring his protests and scouring through the cupboards until she found what she wanted. "How about you? Do you want tea or coffee?"

"I'll join you with tea," he winked, grabbing her suitcase off the floor. "I'll drop this off in your room and be right back."

"Thanks," she nodded, filling the pot with water and setting it on the stove. Once he had vanished, she checked the cupboards again. Flour, sugar, baking powder, chocolate…She couldn't believe her luck. "I didn't know you were a baker," she jested as he came back.

"I'm not," he stated, frowning in confusion.

"You have baking goods in here," she pointed out.

His frown switched to a grin at once. "That must've been Alfhilda."

"Af-who?"

"My Finnish housekeeper," Nick chuckled. "She comes every couple of weeks to check up on me and the house. I mentioned you were coming and that you liked cooking and baking. I saw that she brought back those supplies but I didn't think anything of it."

"I'll have to thank her, and learn her name, too," Evelyn giggled. "That was sweet of her."

Once the tea had been prepared, they stepped out onto the porch and sat on the swing, sipping their beverages and listening to the party next door.

"What do you think it's like over there?" she murmured, deep in her musing.

"Where? At Gatsby's?" Nick asked, following her eyes. "Who knows," he shrugged. "But it must be grand."

"I suppose it is," she smiled back at him. "Nick, are you heading to work tomorrow?"

"Of course. Why? You want to come and help me sell bonds?" he chuckled.

"Not quite," she smirked. "I want to see if I can find work, too."

"Just don't aim for Broadway or Tom will have a heart attack," Nick joked, nudging her arm.

Laughing at the memory of Tom's comment, she shook her head. "Don't worry, I'll start small. Maybe I won't find anything with singing, but I do want something to do."

"Got it," he nodded, sipping his tea. "I'm sure whatever you find, you'll be fantastic at it."

Turning to look back at the mansion's lights, she felt that someone was watching them. Her brows furrowed, she glanced up towards one of the many windows and was startled to see a figure standing behind a curtain in one of the upper story rooms. The moment she saw his silhouette, the curtain drifted shut. Pursing her lips in curiosity and the same determination her father had, she complacently sipped her warm tea and remembered her goal. If Mr. Gatsby wasn't going to drop by and say "how-do-you-do" himself, she would make herself and Nick known.

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**A/N: **I own nothing except my OCs, Evelyn and Desiree. Please don't forget to drop off a comment! 'Til next time! ^_^


	2. The Job

_Chapter Two – The Job _

Nick moaned in his sleep, dreaming of bacon and cupcakes when his eyelids fluttered open. He frowned, confused as to why his dream persisted to follow him out of his sleep when he realized someone was working in the kitchen. The thought of his new roommate made him smile as he realized it must be Evelyn and he immediately got dressed and cleaned up. Fixing his bowtie, he entered the kitchen and was assaulted with a medley of mouth-watering aromas.

"G'morning, sleepyhead," Evelyn winked as she set a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes before him.

"Good morning," he answered cheerfully, taking a seat and watching in awe as she poured him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. "Wow, I could get used to this!"

She laughed, setting a pot of coffee to the side as she pulled out a tray of chocolate cupcakes from the oven. "It's a miracle you're able to live on your own. What did you eat before I came here? Grass?"

"Actually, meat straight from the can but I'll gladly take this over that any day," he chuckled. "What're the cupcakes for?"

"Half of them are for us," she grinned, taking some that were already cooled and applying a thick, rich, creamy frosting on top. "The other half is for our neighbor, Mr. Gatsby."

Nick raised his head and stared at her, stunned, as he chewed his food. Swallowing, he asked, "You're not serious, are you?"

"Of course I am. It's rude to not say hello and introduce yourself."

Nick wanted to advise her against doing such a thing, but the food was so good, and his mind was still struggling to catch up from sleep. "Well, I guess we could drop them off-"

"Aren't you late to work already?" she asked, nodding at the clock in the living room.

Nick checked his watch, his eyes becoming the size of saucers. "If you're going to drop those off, you'd better hurry!" he said, stuffing his mouth with as much food as possible. "Ten minutes max!"

Laughing as she watched him scarf down his meal, she placed the treats into a prepared basket before turning off the stove and oven. "Put your dishes in the sink and if I'm not back by then, stop by the mansion to pick me up!" Running out of the house, she stepped lightly onto the path and made her way to the front of the magnificent mansion. The iron-wrought gate was open, oddly enough, and the gardens looked astounding in the morning light. Stepping carefully onto the grounds, she admired and gazed at the lavish fountain and breath-taking flowers that surrounded the driveway.

"It's not a mansion, it's a _palace_!" she exclaimed.

"You think so?"

Evelyn squeaked in surprise as she spun around to face the voice that had appeared out of nowhere. He was dressed in dark slacks and a shirt rolled up to the elbows, dirt stains spotting his clothes every now and again. He was a handsome man, with stunning blue eyes and golden hair, and a smile that made her feel as if she was the only person in the world and his attention was meant only for her.

"I'm terribly sorry," he apologized but he couldn't help chuckling and she had to laugh with him.

"No, no, that was my fault," she giggled, her cheeks bright pink. "You just startled me is all. Sorry, I must have sounded like a seagull just now-"

"Hardly," he grinned. "But really, do you like it? The house, I mean."

"Who wouldn't like it? It's gorgeous," she beamed, taking another look around. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm sorry, I just wanted to drop these off to Mr. Gatsby. My friend, Nick Carraway, and I wanted to let him know we're his neighbors and that we wish him well." She handed the basket over to the man and turned to check the gate. If she hurried back now, she might catch Nick in time as he got into the old Dodge.

"Well, that's very kind of you," the man said gently, his eyes full of gratitude and admiration. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, Miss…?"

"Evelyn Keller," she responded with a smile. "Oh, if he doesn't care for chocolate, don't let it go to waste, please. I'm sure someone here will like them, if they don't mind it being made by me-"

"Nonsense, Mr. Gatsby loves chocolate," he winked. "I'll be sure to get it to him at once."

"Thank you, Mister…?"

"Just James," he said quickly, sounding hesitant to offer his name.

"Well 'Just James,' thank you, and please take one for yourself," she grinned. "I'm afraid I'm in hurry, but it was nice meeting you!"

He waved, watching her leave. She sprinted across the way and skipped past the gates, leaving him standing there with a basket that contained delicious smelling cupcakes.

"Mr. Gatsby, sir, I have the rose seeds you requested," came the voice of Herzog, the butler.

Turning around, Jay Gatsby (wearing soiled clothes from muddling around in his gardens after last night's party and suddenly deciding he wanted to add more roses) faced his faithful butler and smiled. "Thank you, Herzog. Just tell Albert to plant them by the hydrangeas." Lifting the basket, he sniffed the gift, his lips remaining in a perfect smile.

"Was that an errand girl, sir?" asked the servant.

"No…a neighbor," he mused, walking back to the house. He chuckled as he strolled up the steps and into his home, heading straight for the kitchen. "Care for a cupcake?"

"No, thank you, sir," Herzog responded politely.

Remembering how the girl had spoken so casually with him, he shook his head with a wry smile. "I do believe she thought I was the gardener."

"The young lady?" asked the butler, stunned that she would think such a thing.

Gatsby laughed, plucking a treat from the basket and biting into it. He found it rather amusing that she didn't realize who he was…then again, she _was_ new, and by the look of her red plaid dress and worn brown work boots, he knew that she was fresh out of the Midwest. As the sweet, soft treat melted in his mouth, he couldn't seem to get her bright emerald eyes out of his mind, and the way her coppery red-brown hair whipped around in its braid seemed to replay in his memory over and over again as she smiled at him. Her voice echoed, saying, _"I'm afraid I'm in a hurry, but it was nice meeting you!"_

"Herzog, bring the car 'round, would you, old sport?" he said, suddenly striding away.

"Yes, Mr. Gatsby," the servant replied, taking off to relay the orders once more to the chauffer.

Jay Gatsby seemed to fly up the stairs to his room, frantically grabbing at the first outfit he could manage to piece together. If he hurried, he might be able to catch up with the girl and her friend. As he tore his filthy clothes from his frame and began to dress himself in the new ones, he couldn't help remembering how he had given her his true name, James, as a cover up just so that she wouldn't figure out that he was the master of the estate. It was as though he was revealing part of his past to her, a past that he wanted kept secret forever…but her response seemed to wipe away all worry and shame, her grin shining through in his mind.

"Evelyn Keller," he stated in a murmur, fixing his tie before he grabbed his cane and hat. A smile stretched over his face. He couldn't remember the last time someone had sparked his interest so much, expect perhaps when Mr. Nick Carraway moved in next door about a month ago at the beginning of summer. Rushing down the steps, he headed for the door, stopping only for a moment to tell one of his servants to put the cupcakes away in a safe place for him until he returned home.

"I'll see you later, Herzog," he commented as he slipped into his favorite yellow car.

"And if someone should call, Mr. Gatsby…?"

"Tell them I'll call them back. I'm not sure how long I'll be away today."

**~JG~**

"Have fun at work, Nick," winked Evelyn as Nick pouted and entered the building. Taking a step back and looking around, she felt slightly overwhelmed, but also excited, as she took in all the sights, smells, and sounds of New York. Walking along the sidewalk, she felt like a child, feeling as though anything – just about _anything_ – could happen at that moment. Passing the storefronts and vendors, she marveled at how the buildings seemed to touch the clouds. Kansas was certainly a huge contrast from New York…simply thinking of her home made her homesick, visions of her parents flashing through her mind, only to be abruptly interrupted by memories of her step-father, shouting after her as she got on the train and left, words of doubt, anger, and insults ringing in her ears. She could still see him shaking his fist at her, telling her not to come back crying when she failed…

Shaking her head, she strove to drive the imagery out of her head when she was distracted by a display in a store window. Peering inside, she decided it wouldn't hurt to have a peek, not that she could buy anything, but hey, window shopping was better than nothing. The moment she stepped inside, she felt all eyes on her, as though she were a bug inside a hen house. She immediately began regretting even considering walking into the store.

"May I help you?" asked a man dressed in a suit, an employee of the store.

"Oh, no thank you. I was just leaving," she started.

"I can't interest you perhaps in that dress you were admiring in the window?" he smiled cheerfully. He chuckled merrily at her bewildered face. "Yes, I saw you through the window. I believe we have it in your size."

"I can't…I shouldn't…" she protested, glancing at the door.

Tilting his head at her with a friendly, knowing smile, the man offered his hand and said, "Just for a moment, have a little fun and try something different. I'm sure you've come a very long way and it would be a shame not to at least try on something before returning home."

The words she had shared with Desiree came to mind as she realized that this was an opportunity to try something she'd never done before. There were no department stores in Kansas, and the finest thing she owned was calico, so why not try on a beautiful dress and have some fun, if only for a moment? Surrendering, she let the gentleman take her into the fitting room and waited until he returned with the dress.

She cautiously stroked the fabric, a soft crème hued lace covering a beige, knee-length gown with no sleeves. She couldn't image herself wearing something like this in a million years…

"Show me once you're finished," the man reminded her before leaving her alone. Sighing, she changed into the dress, wondering how on earth she let this man talk her into this. Stepping out, she blushed as she showed him the gown. "I look silly, don't I?"

He smiled, shaking his head at her. Taking her hand, he placed a kiss on it and winked. "You look like royalty."

She pursed her lips at him in doubt as he forced her to face the mirror. A gasp escaped her lips as she looked at herself. She loved how it fitted her, how it hugged her and flowed away in the right places. The color was beautiful, like something out of a photo her mother owned from years ago. "Oh…" Her eyes watered and she spun away, rubbing her knuckles against her eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked the employee, worried that he had gone too far.

"It's beautiful…it really is…but I can't…I can't look. I'll fall in love with it and I'm not supposed to. I can't afford it anyways." Sniffling, she forced herself to smile. "You've been very kind but I really can't take this dress…I should go."

He nodded sadly, patting her shoulder. "Take your time."

Moments later, she stepped out and gave the dress back to the gentleman, giving his arm a squeeze. "Thank you…I'll never forget you, or that dress," she said quietly, smiling at him. With a nod, she hurried out of the store, the sting of reality fresh in her mind. For one brief moment, she saw herself as something more than just a poor girl from Kansas without a penny…for a brief moment, she was a princess, she was special…but she knew when to leave the fairytale behind and get back to the real world.

With her head held high, though her eyes shone with the tears she refused to let go, she continued down the boulevard.

Evelyn decided to avoid stores for the rest of the day, keeping to the sidewalk and watching people and cars run by. By noon she was famished, so she entered a quiet café of a restaurant. Taking a seat, she ordered an iced tea and a turkey sandwich, struggling to get the beautiful dress out of her head. Her step-father would have threatened to give her a good whipping if he had seen her doing such a thing. _"Don't get involved with stuff that you ain't a part of," _he would remind her, meaning "leave the rich stuff for the rich people and stick to your practical, sensible life."

Sipping her beverage, she wondered if Nick was off for lunch by now when she heard squabbling behind the bar counter.

"Abby's still croaking, Velma! We need entertainment, there'll be more customers in soon, and you know they like having someone up on that stage singing while they enjoy a bite to eat!" a middle-aged man, presumably the owner of the restaurant, argued with a rather pudgy woman, whom she immediately assumed was his wife.

"Well, even if you could find someone to replace our darling daughter, that doesn't mean they'd want to sing their little heart out for the next five hours or so!" she snorted, waving her hand at him. "Tell Joey to go home early and we'll have to play the radio for today again!"

"We've lost enough customers yesterday, we can't afford that today!"

"Um, excuse me?"

The two older folks jumped at the sound of Evelyn's voice, spinning to face her.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt or eavesdrop," she apologized. "But I-"

"Want a lemonade, dearie?" the woman asked too sweetly. "I can whip something up in a-"

"No, thank you, I just wanted to ask if you needed someone to sing for your restaurant today," she cut her off.

They blinked at her, stunned. "That's rather cheeky of you," sniffed the woman.

"Velma!" hissed the man. Offering her an apologetic smile, the man offered his hand to her. "I'm Rodney Jones, owner of the restaurant, and this is my wife, Velma. What's this about you wanting to sing?"

"I heard you have a daughter and she's out today, right? I could sing for today and you don't have to worry about seeing me again," she offered.

"What makes you think we'd have you?" Velma snapped, only to have Rodney give her a dirty look.

"Tell you what, you go on and sing something. If you're any good, you're hired for the day, and if not…"

"I'll go," she nodded, her heart thumping within her chest at the prospect of being able to try. "Thank you. I'll do my best." Getting up, she walked to the little platform that had been built into the front window of the restaurant. A trumpet player sat on his stool, reading a book as he sipped water. Seeing her approach the stage, he raised an eyebrow and grinned. "You been hired for today?" She nodded the affirmative. "Lordy, what a miracle!" he guffawed, slapping his knee. The Negro man jerked his head at Velma, who fumed as she argued with Rodney. "She's so proud she thinks she da Queen o' England. Thinks her daughter is pure gold, too." Offering his hand to her, he tipped his hat. "Joseph Skell, but everybody calls me Joey."

"Evelyn Keller," she smiled back, shaking his hand. "What music do you have?"

"Hmm…" Picking up a booklet, he leafed through the pages until he grinned broadly at a song. "Ever heard o' this one?"

Taking the book, she glanced at the words, her face lighting up. "Yes…I think I know all the words."

"Ok, den how 'bout a lil' warm up?" Placing the instrument to his lips, he started to blow a couple of notes, tapping his foot in time to the beat. Evelyn began to sway her hips, snapping his fingers in time to the beat as she grinned at him. Closing her eyes, she pictured the lyrics she had heard many times when visiting town back in Kansas, the music she found intriguing and her step-father found appalling. Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and joined in.

"_I look and stare so deep in your eyes,_

_I touch on you more and more every time,_

_When you leave I'm beggin you not to go,_

_Call your name two, three times in a row._

_Such a funny thing for me to try to explain,_

_How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame…_

_Yeah, cause I know I don't understand,_

_Just how your love can do what no on else can!_

_Got me lookin' so crazy right now!_

_Your love's got me lookin so crazy right now!_

_Got me lookin' so crazy right now, your touch's_

_Got me lookin' so crazy right now!_

_Got me hoping you call me right now, your kiss's_

_Got me hoping you save me right now-_

_Lookin' so crazy, your love's got me lookin'-_

_Got me lookin' so crazy, your love!"_

Her voice filled the air, swinging hand in hand with the trumpet's blare and soft puffs. Men, women, and children would pause at the open doors of the establishment, stunned to hear someone who could sing. Abigail was notorious for having a nasally, stressed voice and tended to squawk at notes she couldn't hit, but this…this was someone they had never seen or hear before, and she was wonderful! People poured into the place, asking for drinks and meals at once while they scrambled to find decent seating, already watching the young woman in the red plaid dress and worn brown work boots with bright green eyes and braided hair step in time with the music and sing her heart out to them.

"She's brilliant!" Rodney grinned, running around and taking orders.

Velma sneered as she watched the girl take in the attention and adoration her daughter should be receiving. "Enjoy it while you can, you croaking cow," she spat, stalking off into the kitchen.

Oblivious to his wife's anger and jealousy, Rodney was overwhelmed by the amount of customers that had taken residency in all of the available seats. He was even starting to see a small line form outside of the restaurant. Grinning like a fool, he ordered his employees to step to it as they scrambled to get orders and bring out food. Stopping by a table that was off to the corner of the establishment, he asked, "Can I get you anything to drink for the moment, sir?"

"A lemonade would be perfect, thank you. Oh, do me a favor, won't you? Pass on this little tip to the young lady who's singing."

The owner took the bill and slipped it into his pocket before scribbling down the order. "Certainly, sir. I hope you don't mind me asking, but who should I say the tip's from?"

"Just say…'a secret admirer', and don't point me out."

"Not at all, sir. Thank you very much. We'll be out with your drink in just a moment," he nodded, scurrying off to another table before stopping by the stage where Evelyn was getting ready to sing another song. "Here you are, my dear," winked Rodney. "From a secret admirer."

"You're kidding!" she gasped, seeing how much she had earned. "I can't-!"

"He'll be insulted," Rodney teased. "Listen, Evelyn, if you stay here for the day, I'll pay you once we start closing up around four. What do you say?"

Beaming as though it was her birthday, Christmas, and Easter all rolled in one, she nodded her head several times, causing Joey to burst out laughing. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

* * *

**A/N:** So, what did you think? :) I hope you all enjoyed and I do hope you'll come back for the next chapter. Thanks to my two reviewers for your encouraging messages! Until next time!


	3. The Letter

_Chapter Three – The Letter _

Four o'clock came before she could blink, and though she was exhausted, she was happier than she could ever imagine. There were still some stragglers who were finishing their late lunches (or early dinners, she really couldn't tell), but for the most part, the place was empty.

"Phew! That was some day," Joey sighed, offering her a hand as they stepped off the platform together. "Yo' cuzin comin' ta pick you up soon?"

"He's my friend, actually," Evelyn smiled and nodded, taking her glass of lemon water with her. "And yes, he said he'd be here when I phoned him a few hours ago." Her left hand passed over her pocket, and she had to bite her lip in order not to gasp from the sheer disbelief of how full it was. She couldn't remember the last time she had made so much money, and this was all just in tips!

"Here you are my dear," Rodney said, handing over an envelope to the girl. "You deserve it."

Her fingers trembled as she accepted it, her eyes shining in amazement. "Oh, thank you-!"

"No, thank _you_," he smiled. "This is the most business we've had in ages. You're really something else, you know? How did you learn to sing like that anyways?"

"I had a tutor once, years ago," she blushed. "My aunt used to sing professionally in music halls. My mother came from a well-off family, you see, but she married a famer. Her sister would visit us every so often and she taught me to sing for Sunday school when I was a child. She always encouraged me. She passed away the same year my father did, but I never stopped dreaming, or practicing."

"Well, I'd say she taught you well," Rodney nodded. "May they both rest in peace."

They bowed their heads for a moment when Velma burst out of the kitchen. "Rodney, send these strays out!" she shouted, motioning towards the few men scattered throughout that were still finishing their drinks and meals.

"Velma, please-" he started, gritting his teeth in embarrassment. She had been insufferable all day, and he couldn't see why.

"And YOU!" she snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Evelyn. "What are YOU still doing here?!"

"I-" she started.

"I don't want to hear it," she growled. "You did your part. Now get out like you promised."

"Velma! Stop this at once! She's been wonderful and-!"

"And what? You plan on hiring her over your own flesh and blood?! Abigail is our daughter, Rodney, and she will be back once she is better. This little piece of…of…_cow pie_ is lowering our standards!" she spat, shaking her fist at the girl. "We shouldn't even be paying her!"

"That's quite enough-!" Rodney shouted.

"STOP!" Evelyn cried, silencing the both of them and earning the attention of the leftover customers. Lowering her voice and taking a deep breath, she felt her body shake as her face became too warm for her liking. "Thank you, Mr. Jones, for having me today. It was a wonderful experience I'll never forget…and you, Joey. Thank you, too."

The two men gripped her hands, offering sad, apologetic smiles before glaring at the old woman.

"Thank you, too, Mrs. Jones," Evelyn said with her head held high though her neck was quite red. "I hope your daughter is well again soon…I'm sorry you had to put up with this _cow pie_."

The woman's nostrils flared at the girl's tone, unable to believe that she was actually sticking up for herself in front of her.

Nodding goodbye to the others, she calmly walked out of the restaurant, walking down the street in search of Nick.

Rodney spun around and glared furiously at his wife. "How dare you insult her like that?! She was a sweet, polite girl, and she was a terrific singer-!"

"She isn't fit to lick the dirt off of our shoes!" she scoffed. "You'd have to be crazy to hire her-!"

"Excuse me."

The old couple whipped their heads around, ready to bite off the intruder's head for interrupting their discussion when they realized who it was. The man had been in almost four hours now, having taken residency in the corner table since Evelyn started singing that afternoon. He was dressed in fine clothes and paid a pretty penny for everything. Rodney recognized the gentleman at once simply because he catered to him so many times and constantly asked him to bring Evelyn tips, only going by "the secret admirer."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help overhearing your discussion," he said, a charming smile gracing his face. "Did you let that young lady go just now? I mean, you didn't hire her to work here, did you?"

"Of course not, sir," Velma smiled a little too much as she adjusted her shawl around her shoulders. "We would never do such a thing."

"Excellent," nodded the gentleman. A smirk twisted over his smile, his eyes shining smugly. "That means _I _get to hire her. She's rather incredible, you see." As Velma's jaw hit the floor, he turned to face Rodney. "No hard feelings, old sport?"

"None at all," Rodney replied, shaking his hand with the rich man's. "I'm glad _someone_ realizes her talent."

"But of course," the customer winked. "I have an eye for finding very remarkable people. Good day, sir." Placing his hat on his head, he strolled out of the establishment with his cane at hand. Scouring the area with his eyes, he found no sight of Evelyn on the streets as he walked back to his beloved yellow car. It wasn't until he entered the vehicle that he saw Nick Carraway's old Dodge pass by. It was a glimpse – only a glimpse, of course – but he saw her, facing Carraway with a brave smile as her eyes glistened with unshed tears that were ready to burst forth from their prisons.

Gatsby clutched the wheel tightly, his fingers seeming to strangle the steering wheel as he remembered what that woman had said about Evelyn. His brows furrowing in anger, he started up the car and threw his cane aside when he noticed a slim box in the passenger's seat, wrapped in a pastel pink bow. Immediately, the frown was replaced with a gentle smile as he realized what he could do to brighten the girl's day.

"First things first," he said aloud to himself. "That present needs a note."

**~JG~**

Evelyn watched the leaves as the wind softly shook them, slowly undoing her braid as she sat on the front porch swing. She no longer burned in shame, but it was another mark to add to her list of disappointments and the sting of its memory was fresh in her mind, the insult playing over and over again.

"Here," Nick said, stepping out of the cottage with a tray. Placing it on the little table before them, he offered her a teacup and a cupcake.

"We'll spoil dinner for ourselves," she chided him though she accepted the items.

"It's ok to have dessert before dinner every once in a while, though," he winked, taking his own and biting into the treat "Mmh! Just as good as they smell," he moaned as he chewed in blissful happiness.

She giggled at the faces he made at her, her eyes wandering to the neighbor's house. She wondered if Gatsby ever received her miniscule gift, if he even tried one of the cupcakes…and what of that gardener, James? Did he try one? What did he think? Did he give them to Mr. Gatsby…?

"Eve?" Nick asked, tapping her shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"What? Sorry Nick," she shook her head, offering a weak smile. "I got distracted."

He watched as she stared towards the bay, watching the sun meet the horizon as the green light on Daisy's dock blinked at them. Keeping his hand on her shoulder, he said gently, "I know it's been a rough day for you-"

"Oh no, Nick, it was a great day…it was just the end of the great day that really stunk," she clarified, putting on the best careless smile she could, wanting to look like Desiree. "Really, I'm fine. You shouldn't be so worried-"

"I'm your friend. I worry about you anyways," he insisted. "Maybe tomorrow you should just stay home and relax. You could-"

The loud, obnoxious cry of the telephone sounded off, making them gasp in surprise. "I'll get it," she offered, setting her cup down and squeezing her way out between the swing and coffee table. Hurrying as quickly as she could, she stepped into the kitchen and snatched the phone from its hold. "Hello?"

"Oh good, you're home," said a familiar voice through the other side. "It's me, Desiree Lancaster."

Evelyn's face immediately lit up as she heard the girl's voice mention her name. "Desiree! It's so good to hear from you! How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. I'm not interrupting dinner, am I?"

"No, not at all. Are you calling for Nick?" she asked, seeing her friend enter to find out what was going on. He gave her a funny look, as if to say, "What're you roping me into now?"

"No, no. Not for Nick," she could hear the other girl respond, sounding a little flustered. "I was calling for you, actually."

"Me?" blinked Evelyn. "What for?"

"Daisy and Jordan are making plans to spend a girl's day out in the city. Tom's picking up Nick and they'll be spending some time together tomorrow to catch up on Yale or something like that." She could almost see Desiree rolling her eyes at the mention of Tom. "But anyways, Jordan thought it might be fun if all of us went to the city to go shopping and have lunch and that sort of stuff."

Immediately, the images of that day flashed through her mind, feeling like a slap to the face. "That's very thoughtful of you, but I…I can't."

"Why not?"

"I…I don't have any money for shopping in those fancy stores and-"

"It's my treat," Desiree said suddenly. "I know that you don't exactly have our status here, but it's been so long since I could really talk to anyone and I feel that if you're going to be my friend, the least I can do is help you pick out a dress in case if there's a party or dinner event we go to together. Please, Eve, I've got all this money to spend and no one to spend it with. Help me go shopping tomorrow?"

Biting her lip, Evelyn wanted to smile at the girl's reasoning. She really was a sweetheart despite her Jordan-like attitude. "What time should I be ready?"

"Daisy's having her chauffer take us, so I'll tell them to pick you up around…is ten o'clock too early?"

"No, it's perfect." Clutching the phone, Evelyn said, "Thank you, Desiree. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"As they say in New York, 'forget about it'," Desiree answered, a light laugh coming out of her mouth. "All right, then. I'll let Jordan and Daisy know, and we'll see you then. Give my regards to Nick, won't you?"

"Of course," smirked Evelyn. "Thank you again…good night."

Watching put the phone back in its cradle, Nick crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "What's with that face?"

"Is it true you're going with Tom Buchanan tomorrow into town?"

"Yes," he blinked, startled by the question. "Why do you-?"

"Desiree, Daisy, and Jordan invited me to join them tomorrow for a girl's day out," she grinned. "Oh, and Desiree wishes you well."

"Well, that was nice of them!" he said, beaming at the news. "And that's very sweet of Desiree. When are they coming to pick you up? Or do I have to drop you off somewhere?"

Evelyn opened her mouth to respond when a knock at the door caught their attention. Exchanging perplexed glances, they went to the door, stunned to see two men dressed in suits, one of them holding a box with a pastel pink bow.

"Mr. Carraway? Ms. Keller?" asked the man who held nothing.

"Yes?" asked Nick, looking from one man to the next suspiciously.

"Mr. Gatsby sent us, sir. He would like to thank you both for the cupcakes," he informed them in a clipped, British accent. "He also sends a gift to the young lady."

She gawked at them, stunned. "For _me_?" This had to be a joke!

The man with the box offered it to her, asking if she would like him to open it for her.

"Mr. Gatsby would like to know if you approve of the gift," explained the other.

"Oh, um…would you follow me to the swing?" she asked, glancing at Nick for an answer.

He shrugged, just as surprised and clueless as she was. Shaking her head in surrender, she led the man to the swing and sat down, accepting the box. Everyone watched her as she undid the beautiful bow. _"It almost feels like I'm five again and everyone's waiting to see my reaction to a Christmas present,"_ she mused. Lifting the lid off of the box, she gently removed the top layer of tissue paper and felt her eyes grow wide. There in the box lay the dress she had tried on and fallen in love with at the store. Lying on top of it was a single white rose with an ivory hued envelope, her name written in impeccable cursive on the front.

"What…?!" she gasped, her hands shaking as she reached for the envelope. She knew now why they were waiting – she had to read the letter within and send them back with a response. As delicately as she could, she opened the envelope and tugged the letter out. In her mind, she read the words on the fancy paper, her stomach twisting in a knot.

_Dear Ms. Evelyn Keller,_

_I apologize for not making myself known to you and your friend sooner._

_I would like to thank you very much for those divine cupcakes you sent this morning – I'm taking the liberty of devouring them myself. I hope you approve of the gown I have selected, and I do hope you'll attend one of my parties in the near future. You see, I am in dire need of a beautiful and competent singer that will entertain and astound my guests, and from what I heard, you would be perfect for the job._

_If you are interested in this offer, please let the two gentlemen who are you know of your decision. If you need time to think on it, or if you refuse, please be honest and say so. I respect whatever choice you make._

_I look forward to meeting you very soon._

_Sincerely,_

_J. Gatsby_

Evelyn stared at the paper in disbelief, reading it over and over again, her heart pounding a million miles an hour.

"Is everything alright?" Nick asked, snapping her out of her trance.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," she apologized, looking up to the servants who waited patiently for a response. "Um…gentlemen, please let Mr. Gatsby know that I truly am very…humbled by his gift and his offer, I really am very grateful…I…I'm a little in shock to be honest. I don't know what to say."

"Shall we tell him you're undecided for the time being?" asked the first servant.

Looking down at the note, she reread the last paragraph, stunned by his kind words. "…no. Please tell him that I…I accept his proposal. And thank him."

The gentlemen bowed to them both and excused themselves, returning the way they came.

"What was all that about a proposal?" Nick asked, taking a seat next to her. "Hey, that looks like that dress you were describing earlier-"

"Read this," she breathed, placing the paper in his hands.

He did so, his eyes widening as a smile stretched over his lips. "How do you like that?! That's incredible, Eve!"

"Isn't it?" she said, smiling at last. They embraced, unable to believe what had just happened. "Oh, Nick! It's like a dream! A fairytale!" she exclaimed with a laugh, picking up the dress and pressing it against her frame, getting up to twirl around a few times before sitting down, giggling like a little girl. She didn't care if anyone saw her acting childish – she just couldn't contain her happiness. Placing the dress back into the box and taking the rose, she sniffed its rich, soothing scent, caressed its velvety petals. Raising her eyes to the window she had stared at the night before, she could see a man's silhouette peeking out from behind the curtain. Though she couldn't see who he was, she was certain it was Mr. Jay Gatsby himself.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning her face away and clutching the flower. "Thank you for everything."

**~JG~**

Early the following morning, Tom drove by to fetch Nick.

"Let's go!" he hollered, honking the horn of his blue coup outside the cottage.

"Nick, try to stay out of trouble," Evelyn frowned, fixing his tie before offering him his hat.

"Don't worry, how back could it be?" he grinned, kissing her cheek before taking off before Tom would wake up the whole neighborhood. As he headed for the car, Tom's eyes fell upon Evelyn for a brief moment, evaluating her in her royal blue calico dress and simple flats. She noticed this and gave him a cold look before shutting the door, heading back to the table to finish breakfast alone. "Hulking brute," she muttered under her breath with an impish grin as she sat down and polished off her meal.

Nearly an hour later, she heard another car pull up to the front of the house.

"Eve!" she heard Desiree call out. "Are you home?!"

Snatching her purse, she rushed out of the cottage, locking the door behind her, and hurried to the car. "Good morning," she smiled at the girls.

"Hi," Jordan Baker answered, still checking her hair and makeup.

"Hello, my lovely," Daisy beamed, welcoming her with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Sit here," Desiree commanded, patting the open space beside her.

"To Macy's, Ferdy," Daisy ordered.

The driver took off at once, heading down past the Gatsby mansion and onto the open path.

"Is that really where you and my darling Nicky live?" Daisy asked, glancing back at the cottage with a giggle. "It's so quaint!"

"It's really charming, actually," Evelyn commented. "Thank you all again for having me join you."

"Why not?" Jordan smirked. "It was Des's idea, actually."

Casting the girl a grateful look, Evelyn noted how she waved it off but the smile on her face was genuine. "I hope we can find you some nice dresses," Desiree said, swiftly changing the topic. "I plan to drag you to every store until we find the perfect outfits for you."

"Really, that's not-"

"Oh, what a fun idea! Yes, let's play dress up!" Daisy cooed.

"There's no point arguing," Jordan shrugged. "You're their new doll and they want to pretty you up. Besides, Daisy has this notion about playing matchmaker."

"I'll find you a handsome, intelligent young man and he'll woo you," she winked. "Perhaps you'll become an heiress!"

"I doubt that," Evelyn struggled to smile, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

The drive to New York was filled with chatter that had no rhyme or reason, passing in a blur. It wasn't until they arrived at the store that the impact of what they were going to do hit her. "Desiree, I hope you don't actually-"

"What? Trying to weasel your way out?" Desiree grinned. "Not a chance. Ooh, look at that yellow dress! I bet that would be perfect for you!"

The following hours were spent skipping from one store to the next, taking gowns of chiffon, lace, satin, cotton, velvet, linen, and so forth, dragging them to the fitting rooms to be slipped on and off, some discarded and others wrapped into tissue paper and boxes. Pearls, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and opals were offered to the girls, and then ribbons and feathers. Shoes were bountiful and varied in color and size. It was all so overwhelming to Evelyn, who had never had anyone (apart from the night before) give her so much attention as to whether or not she liked something.

"It's crazy," Evelyn admitted to Desiree in the fitting room as she tried on yet another dress.

"Maybe, but that's how it works here," she shrugged. Checking the area, she saw Jordan and Daisy off in the distance, discussing shoes with a saleswoman. "Now then," she whispered, helping Evelyn button up the dress. "What's this about some secret with Gatsby?" Inclining her head, she let the girl whisper in her ear what had happened the night before, her eyes growing wide in glee and amazement. "You're joking!"

"I thought it was joke, too, until I saw those stiff-lipped men staring at me for a response," Evelyn confessed. "I got the feeling he knew what I had been up to all day, maybe even followed me. How else would he know about that dress I fell in love with, or that I was singing? And if that's the case…" She felt blush fill her cheeks, remembering how well that conversation had ended with Velma. "Then I'm so embarrassed."

"She sounds like a real witch," Desiree nodded, observing her in the gown. "I like this one on you, too. We'll add it to my tab."

"Oh dear God," Evelyn moaned in frustration. "I don't need this many dresses."

"You will if you're going to sing at all of Gatsby's parties from now on," winked the other girl. "Come on, let's tell the others it's time for lunch. I'm starving."

* * *

**A/N:** I own nothing except the OCs. Thanks for your support and interest and please don't forget to let me know what you think!


	4. The Host

_Chapter Four – The Host _

Gatsby sat in his study, listening to the man on the line from Chicago, when he heard the rumble of an automobile outside around eight o'clock in the evening. Curious, he stood and took two steps toward the window, cautiously lifting the curtain aside. His heart began to beat rapidly as he realized it was Daisy's car outside. He could see the women kissing and hugging one another goodbye as the girl, Evelyn made a face as the driver began to place some boxes at the entrance of the cottage. He felt a smile stretch upon his lips as he watched her argue about the boxes to a girl with caramel colored curls, who in turn laughed and hugged her once again. Once the driver was back in his place, the three remaining females waved goodbye as they were driven away, leaving Evelyn alone on the lawn.

"Yes, yes, of course, old sport," Gatsby nodded as he wrapped up the conversation. "We'll have them to you in no time. Yes. Good night." Setting the phone down, he rushed to the window once more and watched as she unlocked the door and began to carry the parcels inside. Biting his lip in anxiety, he ran out of the room, nearly crashing into Herzog.

"Mr. Gatsby, sir, is everything all right?" the butler asked, bewildered at his employer's behavior.

"Did Albert already leave for the day?" he asked, ignoring the man's question.

"Well, yes. He-"

"I need his overalls, right now."

"His _overalls_, sir?!" gasped the man.

"Yes, his overalls!"

"But they're filthy-"

"Precisely, now where are they?" Gatsby demanded.

"W-Well, Zelda has them. She's going to put them to wash for-"

"No! Tell her to send them up right away," he ordered.

Herzog raised an eyebrow at this, an understanding of why he wanted them coming to his mind. "Yes, Mr. Gatsby. Right away." Heading off, he wondered how this girl next door could capture his interest so much it made him want to play the role of a gardener…

**~JG~**

Evelyn had to step out a third time in order to bring in all the boxes and bags she had received from Desiree and she could scarcely believe she had actually accepted all this. "This must be worth a fortune!" she muttered as she knelt down to grab the remaining parcels.

"I suppose to wealthier folk it wouldn't seem that way."

A yelp of surprise escaped her as she hopped away at the sound of the new voice. Raising her head, she saw the handsome man dressed in filthy overalls, his hair disheveled and with dirt staining his cheeks.

"I'm sorry!" laughed Gatsby, seeing how she clutched her heart.

She smirked, giving him a playful shove. "Is that a habit of yours? Scaring people out of their senses?"

"Well, I suppose, but only when it comes to you," he winked, grabbing the boxes off the floor. "I'll take these."

"Oh, no, you don't-" she started.

"A gentleman never lets a lady carry boxes," he grinned, getting up with her. "Here, I'll take these and-"

"I'll get the door," she offered, letting him step inside. "Oh, um, you can just set those over there with the others. I've got to…put them away…" She chuckled, tucking her hair out of her face. "You must think I'm pretty bad, using 'rich friends' to get new clothes-"

"No, no, not at all," he protested, coming up to her once he had set the boxes aside. "If anything, you'll need new clothes. Mr. Gatsby's-"

"He mentioned me?" she asked, startled.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, well, technically, I mentioned you to him, and later he mentioned you to the staff. He's very excited to have you come sing for him this Friday."

"Friday?" she gasped. "Already?"

"Is that too soon?" he asked, concern showing through his eyes. "I could-"

"No, no. I just…" She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "I just can't believe that so much has happened in so little time."

He smiled at her, loving the way laughed. He felt so at ease he almost forgot where he was and who he was pretending to be. "Well, I hope you don't mind me dropping by. I was just out and I saw you bringing those parcels in…"

"Thank you, James," she said, her eyes locking with his. "You're very sweet."

"Not as sweet as those cupcakes," he winked.

"You tried them?!" she asked, beaming.

"I snuck one out before I gave them to Mr. Gatsby. He won't let anyone lay a finger on them, except for himself, of course." He licked his lips and patted his stomach. "Best I ever had."

She blushed and waved it off. "I'm glad you like them."

Standing there, face to face, they gazed at one another until her broke eye contact. Something in the way she looked at him with unjudging eyes and that soft smile made his chest feel as though it were constricted. "Well, I guess I should go…I mean, I'm a mess." He gestured to himself and tried to move his hair from his face.

"Wait," she said, pulling a handkerchief out. Stepping towards him, she cautiously raised the fabric to his face. "May I?" she asked, uncertain of his reaction.

He stared at her, stunned, unable to answer. Gently, she wiped the grit and dirt he had purposely smudged onto himself. Her fingers would occasionally pass over his skin, causing goose bumps to rise. His blood seemed to race through his veins as he let her touch him.

"There," she said at last, quickly tucking a loose strand of gold hair out of his eyes. "That's better," she smiled, causing him to shyly return the gesture. "…will you be at the party on Friday, James?"

He nodded, taking her hand in his. "I guarantee it," he promised, placing a kiss on her hand before bowing his head and leaving. "Good night."

"Good night," she called after him, the feel of his lips on her hand lingering. Grabbing her braid, she bit her lip and suppressed a giggle. She couldn't understand why she got so giddy around him, but she liked the feeling, and she dearly hoped he would find her on Friday.

**~JG~**

Evelyn yawned as she awoke the following morning, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she stretched in bed. Forcing herself to sit up, she stumbled out of her comfortable cocoon and into the washroom, cleaning herself up. _"It's pretty quiet," _she noted, not hearing any sounds whatsoever aside from birds chirping outside. "Did Nick ever come home…?"

Braiding her hair, she stepped out of the bathroom and selected a simple white dress with roses embroidered around the hem of the skirt. Slipping on her flats, she stopped to sniff the rose she had received from Gatsby two nights ago. Smiling, she buttoned the top of her dress before heading out to the kitchen. Pulling out two plates, she couldn't help but remember how sweet and shy James had been in helping her bring in her new clothes. They had been put away and hung up that very night as she waited for Nick…

Her brows furrowing, she pouted her lips as she felt it was very odd that he wasn't back yet. Leaving behind the plates and bread she planned to toast, she stepped outside to see if she could find any clues. Opening the door, she stood on the porch, watching the sun show his brilliant face to the world once more. Scanning the perimeter, Evelyn stopped upon seeing a limp body on the porch swing. Her eyes widened in fear until she began to notice that this person was wearing Nick's hat over his face. Oddly enough, he was left in his undershirt, boxers, socks and shoes, his clothes discarded in a pile off to the corner. Torn between wanting to scream and laugh, she cried, "Nicholas Fitzgerald Carraway!"

Immediately, he jerked awake, nearly falling off of the swing. "Wha-wh-huh?" he stuttered, his words slurred. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he blinked stupidly until he realized Evelyn was standing in front of him, her hands on her hips with her lips pressed tightly in a thin line so that she would avoid laughing.

"E-Eve!" he gasped, his eyes huge in shock as he struggled to get up and cover himself. He looked around, confused as to how he got here. "I…I was…how did I get here?" He winced, touching his forehead. "Ow…"

"Looks like that was one heck of a party at the Yale Club," smirked Evelyn. She walked straight back into the cottage, and at first Nick was worried that she would leave him out there, but she returned with a thick blanket and threw it over him. "Cover up and get up, mister. I'll get your clothes."

"Thanks," he muttered, swaying as he got to his feet.

Rolling her eyes, she collected the articles of clothing that appeared to have dumped on the floor when she felt as though she was being watched again. Nick also felt the strange sensation, and simultaneously the two turned and faced one of the upper story windows of Gatsby's mansion. There, hidden behind the curtain, was the same silhouette that always seemed to be watching them, immediately vanishing the moment they placed their eyes upon him.

"How does he do that?" she murmured, getting to her feet and grabbing one of Nick's arms. "What you need," she said aloud as she dragged him indoors, "is a cold bath and black coffee."

"I'll skip the bath," he grimaced, plopping down on the sofa. "But I'll take the coffee."

Smirking, she mussed his hair and returned to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. "So what happened?" she shouted from the room, getting to work on breakfast. "Did a hurricane pass through or has the Prohibition law been banned? Because you smell like a casket of whiskey."

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose as he came to grips with what happened. "…Tom took me to see his mistress."

"WHAT?!" she screeched, causing him to wince and cover his ears. "Why of all the-!"

"Take it easy," he pleaded, casting her a dirty look as he rubbed his temples.

"Fine," she huffed, biting her tongue as so not to spurt out curses on the adulterer. Daisy wasn't her favorite person in the world, but she was kind to Evelyn, and Tom shouldn't be seeing other women anyhow. "What else happened?"

"They took me to an apartment they have in the city. They had a few guests over and started passing around drinks…"

"I can guess the rest," she cut him off. "I was wondering what had happened to you last night. I got home around eight when the girls dropped me off, and the cottage was empty. Oh, and apparently, Mr. Gatsby wants me over at his mansion tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Nick asked, still muddled from his drunken stupor.

"Friday. Anyways, Desiree went crazy buying me gowns and other little trinkets, and your cousin had a blast trying to make me her new doll."

"I would've liked to have seen that," chuckled Nick.

"Too bad," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. Taking the pot, she poured the steaming beverage into a mug and carried it to him. "Here. Drink this, you'll need it."

He accepted gratefully and began to drink when she took off towards the bedrooms. "What're you doing?" he called after her.

Looking over her shoulder impishly, she grinned and said, "Remember how I said you need a cold bath?"

"Yes…?"

"Well, you're still getting it."

**~JG~**

It wasn't until hours later in the afternoon (after Nick had been forced into a cold bath and fallen asleep for another few hours) when Nick and Evelyn heard a knock at the door as they both read books after they had finished lunch.

"You expecting someone?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow as he up to answer the door.

She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "Not that I know of…" Trailing after Nick, she arrived at the door and was stunned to see another well-dressed servant with a silver tray in his gloved hands.

"Mr. Carraway, Ms. Keller," the man said politely, offering the tray to them. "Mr. Gatsby sends you this."

Nick peered at the tray, seeing an elegant card with beautiful handwriting presented to him. Picking it up with the utmost delicacy, he held onto it by the tips of his fingers as he read aloud, "Dear Mr. Carraway and Ms. Keller, The honor would be entirely mine if you would attend my little party tomorrow night. Sincerely, Jay Gatsby." Nick blinked, stunned and amazed that he had been invited to such an event. "Well, it looks like I'll be escorting you to the party tomorrow," he grinned at Evelyn, who smiled in return. "Thank you very much," he said to the servant, who nodded once before calmly taking his leave.

"You don't suppose Desiree and Jordan might be there, do you?" asked Evelyn as they returned to the living room.

"Well, we can always hope," he shrugged. Placing the fine card on the mantle next to the clock, he muttered, "It should be safe there…"

"What will you wear?" Evelyn asked as he straightened the invitation.

"Huh…I'm not sure…one of my better suits, I guess," he replied. Returning to his seat, he sat down and glanced at her. "How about you? Any of your new dresses?"

"I already know what I'm wearing," she winked, opening her book once more.

"What's that?"

"The dress Mr. Gatsby bought for me. It's only fair that I do so."

Seeing her glow with excitement, he couldn't help but also feel that same pulsing emotion pass through his veins. "Perfect."

**~JG~**

Long before Friday evening came, Evelyn phoned Desiree and asked whether or not she would be attending.

"If you want me there, then of course!" was her reply. "But hold on a moment – you mean to tell me that you actually received an invitation?"

"Yes. Why? What's so odd about that?" Evelyn had asked.

"No one's invited to his parties. They just sort of show up."

"That's rude. And he's alright with that?"

"He keeps throwing those parties and doesn't send anyone out."

"What an odd man…well, never mind. I can't wait to see you there!"

"You know, I can't wait either," she could hear her say, a smile almost audible in her tone. "See you then."

The night of the event finally came and Evelyn was sick to her stomach. The mixture of nerves and adrenaline almost made her sick, but there was no way she was going to back down now. "Are you sure I don't look ridiculous?" she asked for the fiftieth time since she had gotten dressed.

"Stop it, Eve, you look swell," Nick promised as they walked arm in arm to the front of the mansion. Several times already they had to duck out of the way as some maniac driver came racing down the road and up to the driveway of Gatsby's place. The area was filled with people from every walk of life and every single person was fascinating to the eye.

Arriving at the door, Nick pulled out the invitation from his coat and went to the doorman. "Excuse me," he said, having to raise his voice over the masses so that the man might hear him. "We received an invitation. Do you know where we can find the host, Mr. Gatsby?"

"Gatsby?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Nobody's seen him."

With his brows furrowed, Nick exchanged a perplexed look with Evelyn before squeezing their way through the crowd and stepping into the magnificent manor. Evelyn could scarcely believe she was invited to such a beautiful place, full of so many gorgeous artifacts and built so wonderful. Whichever way they turned, they saw all sorts of intriguing figures doing intriguing things. There were heiresses that compared fortunes, politicians making deals with people they had never met before, even Nick's boss, Mr. Walter Chase, who was losing money at a gambling game. In one of the grandest rooms was an elaborate, fine organ, being played by Klipspringer, the dubious descendant of Beethoven.

Everywhere they went, Nick would ask "Have you seen Mr. Gatsby?" and every time the response would be "No one has" or "Gatsby who?" or perhaps even a guffaw or vague giggle.

"I'm starting to wonder if he even exists," Nick confessed to Evelyn.

"He exists, I know it," she insisted, remembering the figure at the window who was always watching.

"I thought we might find you here."

Spinning around, they became relieved at the sight of Jordan Baker and Desiree Lancaster, both dressed in sleek gowns. "Glad you could make it," Jordan said with a smile, looking stunning in black.

"I see you have the dress he bought you," Desiree winked at Evelyn, absolutely fabulous in her silky sky-blue gown.

"Have either of you seen Gatsby?" Nick asked once more. "We received an invitation-"

"People aren't invited to Gatsby's," Jordan informed him.

"Well, we were," he told her.

A young man abruptly cut in, grabbing Jordan's arm and tugging her away. "C'mon, Jordan," he insisted.

"Hey-!" Nick began.

"Don't you know?" the other smirked. "Rich girls don't marry poor boys!"

Nick stood there, appalled at the man's behavior and words.

"Don't mind Teddy," Desiree patted his shoulder. "He's absolutely obsessed with Jordan."

Turning to face her, Nick found himself dumbstruck as he gazed at Desiree. She was a picture of youth and beauty, looking like a young girl and a knowledgeable woman at the same time. Her hair had been pent up on her head into a loose bun, her shoulders exposed as the blue fabric clung to her chest and waist before exploding around her like a flower's petals.

"You look…beautiful," he choked, feeling his face go red. He felt absolutely absurd staring at her but he couldn't stop.

The moment he spoke those words she felt her cheeks flare up, her gaze cast down to the polished marble floor. "You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Carraway," she shrugged back, daring to look him in the eye and offer a small, shy smile.

Seeing the two reacting like love-struck schoolmates, Evelyn laughed and waved. "I'm going to have a look around. I'll catch up with you later," she shouted, pushing her way past several people before she finally got outside to the back. Her jaw dropped when she saw the enormous pool and the endless amounts of confetti it seemed to be raining outside. Huge bottles of champagne were constantly being tipped to fill up guests' glasses, and an orchestra played on and on in the background.

"This is incredible!" she gasped, her heart pounding madly within her as she took it all in.

"Ms. Keller!"

The feel of someone's hand upon her shoulder caught her attention almost as instantly as the sound of the familiar voice that called her name. Spinning around to face him, she beamed. "James! I was hoping I'd find y-OH!" she gasped, taking in the sight of the golden haired, blue-eyed man before her in a tuxedo. "James, you look amazing!"

He chuckled, taking her hand in his. "And you look like a princess," he smiled, kissing her hand like the gentleman he was.

Blushing, she shook her head at him. "Oh, stop teasing," she laughed. "But tell me, have you seen-?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Gatsby," Herzog said, materializing out of nowhere behind the man. "The cake has arrived."

"Excellent," Gatsby nodded to him. "You know what to."

"Yes, Mr. Gatsby. Please excuse me." Bowing to the pair, he melted back into the crowd, leaving them together once more.

Evelyn stared at him, her green eyes wide in disbelief as she struggled to keep her mouth shut. "…did…did he just call you…?"

He offered a guilty smile before running his fingers through his slicked back hair. "Yes, Ms. Keller…_I'm_ Gatsby."

Her hand instantly went to her mouth in a futile attempt to cover her dropping jaw. All the moments they had met and spoken…all those times she acted so casually with him… "Oh my God, I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't know-!" she started, freezing when he placed his fingertips to her lips.

"No, no! Please don't apologize," he implored her, his voice lowering to a tender whispered. His eyes seemed to glisten as he smiled at her, and it was that irresistible smile that made her feel as though nothing else around them existed. "You have no idea how good it felt to be…normal. To be a person in someone's eyes, not some rumor or legend that everyone keeps whispering about," he confessed. Really, it was the truth. Being "Just James, Gatsby's gardener" had become a sort of secret identity for him just to talk with her, but he knew he would have to reveal himself eventually, and this party was going to be it. "So please, if anyone should apologize, Ms. Keller, it's me…can you forgive me?" He moved his hand away from her mouth, unable to understand just why he could still feel her soft, unpainted lips on his fingertips.

He watched her eyes as she evaluated him, her brows furrowed for a moment. He began to wonder if he had gone too far in keeping this a secret when she responded, "I can forgive you…but only if you call me Evelyn." Seeing her smile mischievously at him, he couldn't hold back a laugh as he grinned back.

"Thank you, Evelyn. Thank you." Taking her hand once more, he placed another kiss on it, loving the way she blushed. "Now then, I believe you have a stage to occupy." Offering his arm, he watched her shyly accept him as he led her to the orchestra.

"Why are you doing all this?" she asked suddenly, startling him.  
"What do you mean?"

"The dress, the letter and flower, the job…you even dressed up as a gardener just to talk to me," she pointed out, causing him to crack a smile at the memory of dressing up in dirt-stained overalls and purposely smudging his face. "What was it all for?"

Catching her eye, he said, "…to get your attention…perhaps even earn some admiration…and win your friendship?"

Shaking her head, she patted his arm. "You could have done that just by dropping by and saying 'hello'."

He nodded, a wave of contentedness – a feeling he hadn't felt in years – washing over him. "I know that now…" Stopping at the stage, he helped her up and snapped his fingers, earning the conductor's attention. "I present you your new lead singer," he said, winking at Evelyn in encouragement. "I'm afraid I have to go attend some guests, but I'll be back. Enjoy yourself, Evelyn, and take breaks whenever you need them to have some fun."

"Thanks," she waved, feeling the butterflies in her stomach once more. Looking to the conductor, she saw him smiling and immediately felt at ease. "All right…what do you have in mind?"

**~JG~**

Since Evelyn had vanished, Nick invited Desiree to dance with them. They spun and twirled and swayed, smiling all the while until they heard the music pick up the pace.

"_I ain't got time for you baby-_

_Either you're mine, or you're not!_

_Make up your mind sweet baby,_

_Right here, right now's all we got!_

_A little party never killed nobody,_

_So we gonna dance until we drop, drop!_

_A little party never killed nobody-_

_Right here, right now's all we got!"_

"Hey, isn't that-?" Desiree asked, squinting at the stage.

Nick's eyes widened in amazement as he realized who it was. "It's Evelyn!" he laughed, spinning Desiree around as the music pulsed faster and faster. "Can you believe it?!"

"I'm going to join her on stage!" Desiree grinned. "Be right back!" Taking off as fast as a cheetah, Nick watched her leave before deciding to climb the balcony to get a better look. As he hurried up the steps, a man with a tray of drinks came to him.

"Finding everything all right, old sport?"

"Yes, thank you!" Nick nodded, accepting a glass of champagne as he continued to watch the stage as he ran up the steps.

"Your face looks familiar. Weren't you in the Third Division during the war?" the man persisted.

"Yes, I was ninth in the machine-gun battalion."

"I was in the Seventh Infantry. I knew I'd seen you somewhere before."

"I don't suppose you know where the host, Mr. Gatsby, is, do you?" Nick asked as they reached the balcony at last.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's the strangest thing, I received an invitation from his staff but I can't find him anywhere. I've heard the strangest rumors on him, though. It'd be nice to thank him for having me and my friend – that's her up on the stage, the one in the crème lace gown – it'd be nice to thank him for inviting us."

Setting the tray down and taking a glass for himself, the man rested against the railing and chuckled. "I'm terribly sorry, old sport, I'm not a very good host. You see…" He raised his glass to Nick and smiled genuinely just as the fireworks exploded to life in the sky behind him. "_I'm_ Gatsby."

* * *

**A/N: **A nice, long chapter to all my lovely reviewers and followers! I own nothing except the OCs (and yes, I realize the songs aren't from the 1920s but there are a few from the 2013 soundtrack I really enjoy and think could possibly work for this time era ;)) Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think! Until next time! :D


	5. The Feeling

_Chapter Five – The Feeling _

"I'm sorry, old sport, I thought you knew," Gatsby said as he patted Nick's arm.

"No, I…I'm so sorry for not realizing," Nick stammered, dumbfound at the news. "But then, that means…" He gazed at the stage, seeing Evelyn and Desiree spinning around as they sang out with the music. They were fairies that pranced and flew across the floor as the band behind them continued to work furiously to create the blaring, pulsing music. Evelyn seemed to glow on the platform, her smile seemingly permanent as she finished her first song, earning a deafening applause from the mob as they began to demand another.

"…you made her dream come true, you know that?" he asked, facing Gatsby with admiration and respect in his eyes. "She's always wanted to do something like this…she's dreamed it since we were children. And you were the one who sent that very dress she's wearing, weren't you?"

Gatsby smiled, ducking his head modestly for a moment before nodding. "Yes, yes I am. Really, the honor is all mine in having her here." He offered his hand to Nick, who immediately shook it with enthusiasm. "Listen here, old sport, I've just recently bought a hydroplane and I'm taking it for a spin in the morning. Care to join me?"

"Uh…y-yes. Yes, thank you. That'd be wonderful," Nick blinked, stunned by the request. This had to be the most generous man he'd ever met!

"Tell me, old sport, are you and Ms. Keller…an item?" Gatsby asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Nick couldn't hold back as he burst out laughing, causing Gatsby's stern face to vanish. "Goodness, no! She's like the little sister I never had. We've known each other for years, but no, we're nothing like that," he reassured him, struggling to maintain his composure, changing his chuckles into coughs. "Actually, I've got my eye on someone else…" His blue eyes drifted back to where Desiree stood and embraced Evelyn before hopping daintily off the stage and slithering through the masses. Raising her head, she caught sight of him above on the balcony and waved excitedly, finally showing her true feelings at that moment. He couldn't help but wave back just as animatedly, waiting for her as she swiftly moved up the stairs and returned to his side.

"Having a gay time?" she asked coyly, finally noticing Gatsby.

"I am now," Nick admitted. "Oh, Desiree, this is Mr. Gatsby. Mr. Gatsby, this is Desiree Lancaster."

"Charmed," Gatsby responded, kissing the girl's hand as she curtsied. He winked at Nick as he said, "I see what you're saying now…And please, call me Jay. We're friends after all, aren't we?"

"We are?" Nick asked, wincing as Desiree jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, sending him a look. "I mean, of course we are, Mr. G-, er, I mean, Jay."

Gatsby opened his mouth to say something else when Herzog magically reappeared. "Mr. Gatsby, sir," he whispered. "We found Ms. Baker. She's waiting in the study."

Gatsby nodded, murmuring that he would be there shortly. Turning back to the couple, he smiled pleasantly and apologized, "I'm afraid I have to attend to business, but please, enjoy yourselves." Taking a step, he paused and looked back at Nick. "If there's anything you ever want, old sport, anything at all, just ask for it."

Nick nodded, thanking him before he watched him leave. "…that was…odd."

"What would he want with Jordan?" Desiree asked, her brows knitting together in thought.

A man servant passed by with a tray of oeuvres, asking them if they would like some. Desiree snatched one before thanking him and dragging Nick off through the house until they arrived at the library. "Sometimes it's good to have a little break," she admitted, sitting down in one of the leather-lined chairs.

Nick sat beside her, sipping his drink all the while as he remembered how Gatsby had made himself know. "Gatsby certainly is…interesting."

"What's with the first name basis?" Desiree smirked. "Is Gatsby in love with you?"

"Mr. Gatsby doesn't exist."

The two hopped out of their seats at the sound of a third person. There, hidden behind a wall of books and a tower of empty glasses, was an old man with rounded spectacles, wispy white hair, and a thick little beard.

"What do you think?" he asked, his words slurred as he offered Nick a leather-bound book.

Nick took the book and opened it, glancing at Desiree who bit her lip as so not to laugh at the old man. He rather reminded Nick of an owl with those giant bespectacled eyes. "It's a book."

"It's _real_," he whispered, leaning in so much that their noses were almost touching, the harsh, acid smell of alcohol on his breath made his eyes water. "All of them have pages with words…they make sense…you can read them. I could've sworn it would be…fake. Gatsby's just a fairytale…he's never seen. This is all for show."

The two young people looked at each other again, knowing it would be fruitless to argue with a drunk man.

"…right, Owl Eyes," Desiree nodded slowly, winking at Nick as she moved towards the door. "Enjoy your 'fake' books."

Nick pressed his lips together into a semi-smile as he excused himself and handed the book back to Owl Eyes. Following Desiree out of the library, he found her waiting by a staircase. She looked grand and elegant, but something in her posture made him see what Evelyn had mentioned to him – she was alone, self-conscious, with a wall around her that Evelyn had been picking at to get to her soft, tender side. All within that moment, he realized he, too, wanted to break down those walls and truly know her.

"What are you doing this coming Thursday?" he asked, having to shout over the incessant noise in the estate.

She shrugged, raising one delicate eyebrow at him suspiciously. "Why do ask?"

Feeling his skin flare up, he nervously tugged at his tie as he cleared his throat. "Uh…no reason, really…I just…I thought that maybe, if you like, we could…we could go for…lunch? Or-or would tea be better for you? I mean, if you're not doing anything-" he jabbered on like an idiot, wanting to shut his mouth but unable to.

"I'd like that," she cut him off, a small smile stretching over her rosy pink lips.

He stared for a moment, processing what she had said, then felt himself smile back. "Alright...I'll pick you up around…three?"

"Perfect," she agreed.

Offering his arm to her, he felt his skin tingle as she linked her arm with his. "Let's go find Evelyn."

**~JG~**

It wasn't until many hours later, well past midnight, that the guests began to trip back and pile into the cars outside to go home. Drunk and completely senseless, the mob broke off into chunks and dragged themselves out little by little.

Desiree and Nick sat on a divan somewhere in the depths of the Gatsby's mansion, having tired their feet out ages ago. The girl had promised Evelyn she would keep vigil over Nick and avoid drinking too much, and true to her word, she made him stop after his third glass of champagne. Relaxing together, the couple watched the remaining guests that lay about stupidly over the confetti-covered floor, a woman in the next room singing a sad song as she cried for no apparent reason.

"Des! Nick!" Evelyn called upon seeing them. "There you are!"

Getting to his feet, Nick helped Desiree up before leading her to meet Evelyn. "Ready to go home?" he asked, watching warily as a man stumbled past them and crashed into an empty punch bowl.

"Oh yes," she nodded vigorously, biting her lip as so not to laugh out loud as a half-naked man started singing off on his own tangent. Linking her arm with Nick's, she and the other two began to exit the establishment.

"Have you seen Jordan?" Desiree asked, the realization striking her out of the blue.

"No, I-"

"Nick! Desiree! Evelyn!"

Looking over their shoulders, the trio saw Jordan squeezing through a pair of giggling twins before arriving at their sides. "I just heard the most shocking thing!" she gasped, struggling catch her breath. Her eyes were wide with wonder and she insisted, "It _all_ makes _sense_!"

"What makes sense?" Evelyn asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

A light laugh escaped her as she waved it off. "Here I am, tantalizing you all, but I shouldn't. At least, not now." Facing her little cousin, she took notice of how she and Nick were close together, almost appearing as if she was resting upon his arm. "Hmm…" she smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I'll tell you what. I'm going to tell Desiree what's happening and she'll tell you. Fair enough?"

Nick and Desiree blushed at how Jordan evaluated them while Evelyn cocked her head, struggling to understand just what was going on.

"C'mon, Des. I have to get you home," Jordan said, taking her hand and leading her away from the others.

"I'll see you Thursday, Nick!" Desiree promised, glancing back and blowing a kiss to him.

He immediately reached up to catch the imaginary kiss, grinning brightly as he waved goodbye. Seeing her vanish with Jordan, he heard a snicker from his right.

"Looks like you two had a good time," smirked Evelyn as she continued down the hall with Nick.

"We were just…getting to know one another," Nick explained, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Stepping outside, they felt the warm summer air engulf them as a breeze from the bay drifted past. Evelyn tucked her loose hair behind her ear when she felt a hesitant hand brush against her shoulder. Twisting around, she felt her heart flutter upon the sight of the master of the house. "Mr. Gatsby!"

"Please, Evelyn, call me Jay," he smiled, his eyes filled with a mixture of confidence and anxiety. "Before you leave, I have something for you." Slipping his hand into the breast pocket of his waistcoat, he withdrew a thick, sleek envelope with her name elegantly written on it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, realizing what it contained. "I can't-!"

"You did extremely well, and this _is_ a job," he insisted, taking her hands and placing it securely within them as he clasped his own around hers. "It's only fair."

Nick watched the man as he spoke with his childhood friend, noticing how gentle his tone was with her. There seemed to be some familiarity between them and he began to wonder if they met before.

Swiftly, Gatsby turned his attention to Nick. "Don't forget about the hydroplane, old sport."

"Oh, no, I won't," Nick shook his head. "What time should I be here?"

"What time would suit you?" Gatsby replied.

"Um…ten o'clock tomorrow morning?" Nick suggested.

"Perfect," he grinned.

"Looks like you two got acquainted while I was singing," Evelyn beamed.

"Yes, we did," Nick agreed.

"You're welcome to join us, Evelyn, if you'd like," Gatsby spoke suddenly. "I've bought a new hydroplane and Nick's joining me to take it for a ride. Won't you come?"

"I'd be delighted," she blushed, seeing how hopeful he had appeared when he asked her. "We'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yes, tomorrow," Gatsby repeated, grasping her hand once more and kissing it. "Good night."

"Good night!" Nick responded, waving politely as he led Evelyn away. As they strolled down the driveway, he turned to her and found himself smirking. "So…tell me how you met Mr. Gatsby."

**~JG~**

For the next week, it seemed as if Gatsby had been a part of Nick and Evelyn's lives forever. Each day there was something going on, and event to which he would invite them or some activity that he planned to doing and hoped they would join him in. And all the while, Nick began to notice that Gatsby was very, _very_ attentive to Evelyn.

When they appeared the following morning for their ride in the hydroplane, he greeted them with a great smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, Jay," Evelyn had responded, staring in awe at the plane.

Nick, however, had his eyes on Gatsby, and didn't miss the way is face changed when she spoke his name. It was as though he had heard a mermaid sing the sweetest song of the ocean, seen a shooting star streak across the sky and land in the palm of his hand…It was only for a millisecond, of course, before he put on his careless, dapper face once more as a host, but it had been there.

The next day he offered to take them to an opera. They consented after some coaxing from Gatsby's part, but it had been a memorable night (mostly because Nick met Desiree at the event and nearly fell on top of her while stretching to grab his opera glasses).

Then came the dinner invitations, movie outings, theater nights, and even mindless hours spent chatting and laughing over breakfast or lunch.

There was one day in particular that would always come to Nick's mind whenever he pondered about Gatsby's intentions towards Evelyn. It was early in the morning, and Nick was shaving in the washroom when he heard footsteps at the front door. Setting his razor down, he cleaned his face and hurried to the door, opening it in time to see Gatsby's back towards him.

"Jay?" he asked, startled by the early visit.

Gatsby spun around, his eyes wide like a child who'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar. In his hands was a rather large box that rattled from within. "Oh! Erm, good morning, old sport," Gatsby breathed, giving him a shaky smile. Recovering quickly, he straightened himself and presented the box. "I just thought you and Evelyn might appreciate this-"

"Nick, I have the laundry inside and your clothes are laid out for…"

Both men turned to see Evelyn coming around the porch from the backyard, dressed in a plain green cotton dress with an apron wrapped around her waist. The fabric fluttered in the wind like a butterfly's wings; her auburn hair had been piled into a bun atop her head but there were several stray tendrils that curled around her face.

"Oh!" she said, seeing Gatsby with Nick. She was surprised not to find him in his usual, impeccable suits; rather, he wore khaki colored slacks and a comfortable off-white sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Her face seemed to light up like the rising sun as she nodded her head to him in greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, no! I actually…I…brought you something," Gatsby stammered, reaching out to her as if to stop her from apologizing, then quickly adding, "For the both of you, I mean. Something for the both of you."

Beaming, she made her way towards them and bounded up the stairs. As she lifted her head, the sunlight hit her eyes at an angle, causing her green irises to burst into color, appearing to be shining emeralds. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Gatsby stare in awe at her, his hand once more reaching out as if to grasp the green light before him.

A strand of her hair fell into her eyes, causing her to wince. Gatsby's fingers curled slightly, allowing his hand to sweep just across her forehead and brush the rogue tendril out of her eyes. Blush spread like wildfire across her face as she stood there, seemingly mesmerized by his touch.

Nick knew when he saw this that the feeling he had inside about Gatsby's feelings towards Evelyn must have been stronger than he thought. From what he had seen so far, Gatsby was not a man to admit many things, and Nick was certain that though this man clearly showed what he felt, he didn't know what he felt. Clearing his throat, he offered to take the box from Gatsby.

"Of course, old sport," he consented, snapping out of his trance.

"Won't you come in for breakfast before Nick leaves to work?" Evelyn offered, motioning for him to step inside.

Immediately the excuses began. "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Jay," Nick replied. "You're not imposing."

"I wouldn't want to eat you out of house and home-"

"Of course not, silly, we've got plenty," Evelyn argued.

"Well, if it's not too much trouble…"

"It's not," Nick grinned, opening the door completely to him.

Evelyn nodded, placing her hand on his shoulder and moving forward. "Come on, Jay. You can tell me what you think of my blueberry pancakes."

That infamous smile graced his lips as he finally surrendered, stepping into their home and joining them at breakfast. It turned out that he had brought a rather fine and expensive tea set for them that was all the way from England.

"I thought you might like it in case if you have guests in the future," he shrugged, only to smile uncontrollably as Evelyn picked up each item and admired it aloud, softly caressing her fingers over the porcelain cups, gazing at the delicate, flowery patterns.

"This will be perfect for tea time," she grinned. "I was planning on baking some more today, actually."

"You like that, don't you?" mused Gatsby with interest.

So it was that Nick excused himself after scarfing down his breakfast and taking off, claiming that he was already very late (which he was) as Evelyn started to show Jay Gatsby how to make a batch of cookies. He didn't see them again until later that evening, returning late from work. He'd had a rather pleasant day (having sold several sets of bonds and getting a lovely surprise as Desiree visited him at lunchtime) and was curious to see what had happened to the two he had left home. Entering the bungalow, he found a note in the kitchen stating, "Gone to Jay's. –Eve."

Making his way down the path, he headed to the back of the mansion that led to his massive pool and dock. There, sitting on the sand of his private beach, were Gatsby and Evelyn, sipping orange juice as they gazed out towards the water, the green light on Daisy's dock consistently blinking at them.

"There's someone you're looking for," he heard Evelyn state frankly as he got closer.

"How do you-?" Gatsby started.

"I know that look," she responded, and Nick could imagine her smirking smartly at him as she said so. "My mother had that same look whenever my father would leave for a period of time. She would wait so patiently for him and always embrace him with open arms when he came back from his trips to town or neighboring cities." Placing her hand over his, she gave it a gentle squeeze and reassured him, "You'll find her, and when you do, you'll both be happy."

"You think so?" he asked, his voice full of hope.

She giggled, nodding her head. "I know so. She'd be a fool not to want you."

It was at this moment that Nick decided to make himself known, calling out to them as he stepped through the sand. "Hello, you two! Been busy all day?" He watched as they animatedly answered back, both their eyes glistening. Whoever Gatsby thought he was in love with, it obviously wasn't Evelyn. He had a feeling Gatsby was hiding all sorts of secrets, but it wouldn't be until later – much later – when he would realize the biggest secret Gatsby was keeping from anyone was from himself.

**~JG~**

It wasn't until Thursday afternoon, when Nick had asked to take the day off from work, that he was calmly reading the paper on the front porch swing, still unshaven and undressed (much to Evelyn's disappointment), that Gatsby pulled up to the bungalow in his beautiful yellow car. It roared as it came towards them, purring before it halted and Gatsby waved at the bewildered Carraway.

"Isn't she a beauty, old sport?" he grinned, slipping his glasses off of his face for a moment.

"Uh, yes…she is," Nick agreed, still perplexed as to why Gatsby had the need to show his car off today.

"Nick, is that-?" Evelyn asked, sticking her head out the door.

Gatsby beamed upon seeing her, tipping his hat. "Evelyn! You're looking lovely, as always."

"And you're still very dashing," she laughed. "That's a very nice car."

"Glad you think so," he said. "Get dressed, Nick. Drop whatever you're doing, Eve. We're going to lunch."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, amused. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," he winked.

"I can't," Nick protested. "I'm meeting Desiree Lancaster for tea at three and-"

"And you'll still be seeing her, old sport. She's going to meet with us once we get into the city," Gatsby reassured him. "But first we have to get there."

Shaking her head with a laugh, Evelyn muttered something about changing into something decent before running to her room while Nick got up and went inside as well. Whatever Gatsby was planning, they would soon be finding out in New York.

* * *

**A/N:** I own nothing except my OCs. Thank you to all my reviewers and followers - please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think! Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you all next time! :)


	6. The Favor

_Chapter Six – The Favor _

Evelyn gripped onto Nick's arm as Gatsby drove onto the main path that led through the Valley of Ashes into town. Passing other cars by swerving precariously on the gravel road, she watched as the trees and "new-money" mansions became a blur.

Gatsby tapped his leg with his free hand, seeming almost stiff and nervous now that they were moving. He glanced at Evelyn and Nick, sitting accordingly beside him in the car, and forced a smile on. Evelyn watched him curiously until at last he spoke.

"Tell me, Eve, old sport…what's your opinion of me, anyhow?"

Nick and Evelyn exchanged confused looks before returning their attention to him, startled by his question. "Well…does it matter?" she asked, cocking her head at him.

He chuckled, peeking at her over his sunglasses. "As a matter of fact, it does."

"Well…why do you ask?" Nick questioned him, biting back a yelp as Gatsby sharply turned on a curve.

"You see, I know there are lots of people that say lots of things about me, some of them not so pleasant," he admitted. "But I want you both to know the real story."

They were well out of West Egg now, the open path before them empty.

"I will tell you God's truth-" Gatsby began. "God's truth about myself. I am the son of some very wealthy people from the Midwest. Sadly, they're all dead now. I was educated at Oxford because all my ancestors were – it's a sort of family tradition, you see. I lived like a young rajah in all the capitals of Europe, hunting game, finding jewels – rubies, mostly – painting a little for myself, trying to forget something very sad that happened to me…"

The Valley of Ashes seemed to rise in the horizon, growing bigger as they got closer, engulfing them in its bleakness and dust. Evelyn remembered seeing the place when she first got off the train, it seemed like ages ago.

Just when Gatsby's story couldn't get any more amazing, he became a war hero, fighting off the enemy on his own with only a few weapons. As he kept talking, Evelyn could almost hear the roar of the train, making her look up towards the oncoming tracks.

"STOP!" she cried, gripping Gatsby's arm as pointed out the coming train.

Gatsby slammed on the breaks, stopping them dead in their tracks just before the train arrived and moved past them, each car looking like the next.

"Thank you," he said, pulling out something from his pocket. "Look here, old sport – that's the medal from Montenegro." He handed it to Evelyn who passed it to Nick, allowing him to inspect the prize. On the gold plate he could see a message and began to read aloud, "Major Jay Gatsby for Valor Extraordinary."

"That's right," Gatsby nodded, smiling in approval.

Glancing from the medal to Gatsby, Nick thought, _"Could it all be true?"_ There were things about this man that seemed forced in his stories, and yet here was the proof. Starting up the car once more after the train passed, Gatsby whizzed by the ash heaps and black-coated wastelands until they arrived at the bridge. Evelyn watched all the people that they passed, some dressed practically and hurrying to work while others dressed in lavish decadence, laughing as they showed off their fortunes to the world. Looking past the bridge at towards the harbor of New York, she felt her breath hitch in her throat as she admired how the sun hit the skyscrapers. "Beautiful!" she whispered, not catching how Gatsby looked at her from the corner of his eye.

Upon entering the city, the yellow car jerked and speed up from one side of the road to another, avoiding others as well as earning the attention of nearly everyone who was outside.

"Ms. Lancaster will be meeting you at Lord and Taylor, Evelyn, and I'll be back with Nick in a little while," he explained to the two of them as he continued to drive like a maniac.

"Wait, I thought we were going to lunch all together," Evelyn pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him.

He fixed his hat and cleared his throat as he said, "I'm afraid were I'm taking Nick is a sort of gentlemen's club, you see. I'm terribly sorry, I should have-"

"Well, I suppose I can't argue since there's no point," she sighed playfully. "Unless I dress as a boy and sneak in."

Nick chuckled. "Don't even think about it. I remember what you did when we were ten – you actually pulled it off and snuck into the boys' hideout behind the school and fooled us all until you let your hair down afterwards. That was a scandal Lawry Hillburn would never forget."

Gatsby laughed at the story, causing Evelyn to blush. "I promise, I make it up to you."

"Oh, I was only teasing," she reassured him.

A siren sounded off behind them, approaching fast.

"Oh dear," Evelyn said, looking back and seeing a policeman on a motorcycle advancing on them.

"Shouldn't we pull over?" Nick asked, becoming more than a little concerned when Gatsby showed no signs of stopping.

Arriving at their side, the policeman called to Gatsby, "Pull over!"

"Certainly, old sport," Gatsby nodded, commencing to slip his hand into his coat and produce a simple card with his name printed upon it in gold letters.

The man's eyes widened when he saw the name, realizing who the driver was. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Gatsby! You be careful now."

"Thank you, sir," Gatsby smirked, tipping his hat before placing the card in his coat again.

Nick and Evelyn gawked at the policeman pulled over and stopped at the curb, becoming smaller and smaller with each passing moment that Gatsby drove.

"I did the Mayor a small favor," Gatsby said before anyone could ask.

Shaking her head as she stared incredulously at him, Evelyn laughed. "Do you have everyone here in the palm of your hand?"

"Well…not quite everyone," he answered, his smile small and soft as he looked at her.

They continued down the road, and Nick simply couldn't hold back anymore. "What's all this about, anyways? How did you get in touch with Desiree?"

"I got in contact with Ms. Baker and she let me speak with her cousin," the wealthy gentleman explained, turning his attention to Carraway. "You'll be seeing Ms. Lancaster for tea later today, old sport. She's going to explain some things to you because…well, I have a favor to ask the both of you."

"Us?" Nick blinked, pointing to himself and then to Evelyn.

"Well, why can't you just tell us yourself now?" Evelyn asked.

He gave a chuckle, his smile wavering between nervousness and uncertainty. "Well, it's just that…I wanted you both to know a little something about me, I wanted you to know that I'm a decent man, I…" Turning his face to them, they could see the earnestness and honesty behind his eyes, his voice pleading and humble. "Well, I didn't want you to think I was just some nobody."

Shaking her head once more, Evelyn placed her hand on the crook of his arm and said, "If there's one thing you're not, Jay Gatsby, it's a nobody."

His heart rate accelerated as he felt her hand on his arm, her eyes full of kindness and meaning, her voice firm but gentle. Taking one hand off the wheel, he placed it atop of hers and squeezed it. "You truly have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that, Evelyn."

**~JG~**

True to his word, Gatsby brought Evelyn to Lord and Taylor, where Desiree awaited them at the front door. She kissed Nick chastely on the cheek with a wink, causing him to blush bright pink, before stealing Evelyn away into the store as Gatsby's car pulled away.

"Surprised by all this?" Desiree asked, looking at shoes set upon nearby rack.

"By you being involved with Gatsby's secrets? Very much. Did you ever find out what Jordan was talking about?"

"That's why I'm here." Facing her friend, she linked arms with the girl and led her through the store until they came to a quiet section amongst the lingerie and stockings. "Gatsby needs a favor from Nick."

"Which is…?"

"He wants Nick to invite Daisy to tea at his house."

Evelyn stared at her, completely lost now. "What on earth for?"

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she motioned for Evelyn to come closer before explaining, "Jordan told me all about it. Five years ago, before she was a professional golfer, she knew Daisy as an acquaintance. One day, she saw Daisy with a handsome, young officer in her car…it was Gatsby." Evelyn's eyes widened as she listened, stunned to know that it was Daisy that Gatsby longed for. "He left for the war but promised he would return. Years passed and she didn't hear from him, so her family set her up to be engaged with Tom. On the day of the wedding, Daisy got a letter from Gatsby. Jordan didn't know what it said, but it made Daisy start crying and refusing to marry Tom. She even tore up a pearl necklace he'd bought for her. But they cleaned her up and that afternoon they were wed. Gatsby got back too late but he never stopped looking for her."

"That's so sad," she whispered, her heart aching for him as she listened to the story. She even pitied Daisy for a while until she remembered that she went ahead with the wedding. If she really didn't want to go through with it, she should have stopped the wedding somehow…

"He bought that house across the bay on purpose, hoping that she would wander into one of his parties one night. But she never did…that's what I've got to talk to Nick about. I have to tell him what's going on and ask if he'll invite Daisy to tea at his place so Gatsby can drop by and see her again."

Evelyn gave a small smile as she took her friend's hand and led her to a display. "That has to be the most humble request I've ever heard. And he didn't want to tell Nick in person?"

"No…I think he's embarrassed to ask him directly," Desiree admitted with a smirk. "Well, either way, now you know what's going on. What do you think?"

Evelyn tucked her hair behind her ear, mulling it over in her mind. Gatsby was a kind man who gave everyone what they wanted and never asked for anything in return…until now – a simple meeting with a woman he hadn't seen in five years that he still pined for. How could she refuse to assist in what she deemed a romantic cause?

"I think we need to try on some dresses."

**~JG~**

Nearly two hours later, Desiree departed from Lord and Taylor, telling Evelyn that she had to make a few errands on her own before meeting Nick for tea in an hour. "I'm really sorry," she apologized once more. "But I promise you that someone will be here to pick you up. Just wait at the front."

"Don't worry about me," she reassured her, giving Desiree a hug before waving goodbye. Standing at the front of the department store, she gazed out at the busy streets of New York as she twirled a strand of her hair.

"Been waiting long?"

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled as she saw Gatsby approach her. "No, not too long. Where's Nick?"

"He's…catching up with a friend of his," he slowly admitted, his face struggling not to grimace at the thought of Tom Buchanan. He had taken Nick to a speakeasy to meet with his friend Meyer Wolfsheim, but out of nowhere came Tom Buchanan. Not wanting to be seen just yet, Gatsby left while Nick was speaking with him. His fists clenched at the thought of the pompous blueblood who stole Daisy away…

"Jay? Are you all right?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, he quickly returned his attention to her. "Yes, quite alright, thank you," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

Giving a shrug, she decided to let it slide and instead said, "Desiree told me everything."

His head snapped up upon hearing her, his face beginning to lose color. "Told you…?"

"About Daisy, I mean," she said with a bright smile. "And if Nick doesn't invite her to tea, then I will."

He blinked at her, stunned by her decision. Trying to maintain a cool demeanor, he lightly said, "Oh, you don't have t-"

"Nothing would make me happier than to help a friend," she insisted truthfully. "And I'm sure Nick will want to help, too."

"You think so?" he asked, a hint of hope in his voice breaking through.

"Yes, of course!" she exclaimed.

Gatsby began to smile, looking as if a weight had been taken off of his shoulders but he paused, his brows furrowing upon looking at her sides. "Did you buy anything today?"

"Hm? Oh, no, I didn't," she shook her head.

"You didn't see anything you liked?" he persisted.

"I saw lots of things that were nice and I did like some of them, but I don't need anything, and I didn't want to buy anything to be honest."

"Well, you should," he said suddenly, adjusting his tie as he took a step forward. "Go back inside and if you see anything at all that grabs your interest, just take it. I'll take care of it."

Now it was Evelyn's brows that began to knit together as she listened to him. "That's very considerate of you, but-"

"I know things can be difficult because you can't always get what you want," he continued, rambling on impulsively. "I'll raise your pay for the next time you sing and-"

"It's a favor, Jay!" she laughed, unable to believe what she was hearing. Stepping towards him, she clasped her hands together. "What are friends for, Jay? They're there to help one another in times of need. They don't…they don't show they care with money or new clothes or presents – they show that they care by kind gestures, thoughtfulness, words of encouragement…Nick, Desiree and I are your friends, Jay. That means we want to help you, no strings attached." Cautiously, she raised one hand and placed it lightly against his cheek, gazing into his bewildered and amazed blue eyes. "Do you understand?"

A shiver passed through him upon feeling her soft hand on his face, his eyes locked with hers. He felt unnaturally warm and it wasn't from the summer sun. Nodding his head slowly, his answer came out in a whisper: "I do now." Reaching up, he took her hand in his and reluctantly pulled it from his cheek, moving it to his lips to kiss it. It was practically a tradition for him to do that gesture now, a ritual that he could not live without whenever he was with her. He watched as her eyes darted down to her hand – or was it his lips that she was watching? – and her cheeks bloomed to life with blush. He couldn't understand why he loved how she reacted to this, or why he loved to do it, but he did.

"Well…will you at least let me invite you to lunch and tea afterwards?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her as his eyes and smile became playful. "I'm afraid I took off before Nick and I could get a bite to eat."

Giggling, she nodded in consent, accepting his arm as he offered it to her. Leading her away to his car, he drove them to a sophisticated, grand hotel that contained a marvelous dining room. She instantly said a silent prayer of thanks as she realized it was a wise choice to have changed back at the cottage from her plain brown frock into a light blue sundress that shimmered and fluttered like turquoise waves.

"I'm afraid I'm still not well versed in some of these options on the menu," she admitted sheepishly to him as the waiter returned to take their order.

"Would it make you more comfortable if I chose?" he asked, an impish grin on his face.

"If it isn't too much trouble, please do. Surprise me," she winked.

He relayed a selection for the both of them to the man as well as a reminder that they would also be staying for tea. As the man took off, Evelyn whispered, "I feel a little self-conscious." She glanced at some women who were obvious very wealthy and could spot a poor girl from a mile away, especially one in a pathetic sundress while they wore gowns decked in diamonds and pearls.

Leaning over to her, he whispered in her ear, "You shouldn't be."

Startled from the motion, she began to move her face, freezing when she realized that their faces were almost touching. Gatsby also froze, unable to believe they were within such a close proximity. Mumbling an apology, he pulled away, pretending to check his cufflinks.

Biting her lip, she struggled to find a way to make her heart slow down. "…tell me about your family."

His eyes moved back to her face, seeing her sincerity. Swallowing, he put on a forced smile and lied, "I'm afraid I can't say much…I don't remember my parents all too well. I was…always away at other schools until I was sent to Oxford. By the time I came back from the war, they had died…though I did have a mentor during my youth…Mr. Dan Cody." His smile became wistful as thoughts of the man flashed in his mind. "He was a good man…a drinker, though. He's the reason I don't care to overindulge myself with liquor…but he helped me become the man I am today."

"From what I see, he did a wonderful job," she smiled, causing him to scoff it off though he couldn't help showing a small smile. "Where is he now? Or has he passed away, too?"

"He did a few years ago," Gatsby nodded, his eyes dimming. "I'll never forget him, though." He smiled once more, clasping his hands and resting his chin on them as he inclined his head to her in interest. "And you? You mentioned your father and mother several times to me. Where are they?"

"My mother is back in Kansas," she informed him. "My father died some time ago…my mother remarried after that."

"You don't seem too happy about it," he noted, concerned.  
"Jeremiah's a wonderful provider and he loves my mother…he just can't seem to wrap his head around letting me go and do things I'd like to do. He thinks I should stay home and get married immediately. He almost didn't let me go to school."

Gatsby leaned in again, his attention entirely on her. "But you did."

"My mother and aunt fought him tooth and nail, and I didn't make it any easier," she smiled ruefully at the memory of arguing with her step-father. "I loved to read and learn. I loved going to town, visiting the library, stopping by the general store and listening to the radio they had. My aunt mentored me in singing for Sunday school and for myself whenever she visited, and I loved it."

"And baking?" Gatsby smirked.

Evelyn laughed, shaking her head at him. "No, that was my mother. She showed me how to cook and bake and I loved it. Whenever there was a special occasion, I wanted to create something. I loved being able to make something delicious and share it with others." Leaning back in her seat, she confessed, "But I wanted more. I wanted to explore. I wanted to see cities, oceans, mountains, jungles…my step-father thought it was childish and selfish, and as I got older he tried to forbid me from mentioning it. He called me crazy for thinking I could handle it on my own, and then called me greedy because that would mean leaving everything behind, and it takes money to live in a place like this." She shrugged. "But I'm stubborn, like my father, and one day I'd saved enough money for a train ticket and a cheap room so I left."

At this time, the waiter returned, placing their appetizers before them and leaving once again.

"It's a pity about your step-father," Gatsby stated, motioning for her to help herself as he modeled what to do. "I for one admire your determination, and I'm delighted you came to New York."

"Why's that?" she asked coyly.

"Because I got to meet you," he responded with a smirk. "I believe that you _will_ go to those incredible places you want to see and I know that whatever you choose, you will excel at it."

"You really think so?" she asked, moving her coppery hair away from her face.

Leaning forward, he placed his hand on hers and said, "I know so."

**~JG~**

Nick looked out of the cab window, seeing Gatsby's house lit from tower to cellar, as if there was another wild party going on, but all was still in the air. Reaching up, he let his fingertips trace his lips, a smile forming on them as he remembered how he had parted with Desiree…

* * *

_Several cars honked impatiently as they waited for traffic to move, stuck in place for the time being. This proved to be a perfect opportunity for Nick and Desiree to weave their way between the vehicles as they crossed the street and made it to the other side of the road._

"_That's why he's gone through all this, Nick," Desiree said at last as they stepped onto the sidewalk, heading for a parked cab. "He's hoping you'll give him an answer at your latest convenience."_

_Nick nodded, remembering all that she had explained to him about Gatsby and his request to have Daisy stop by Nick's house for tea. He was astounded by what a simple and humble request it was, considering how much secrecy and discreetness it was shrouded in. "Does Evelyn know…?"_

"_I told her earlier today when you both dropped her off at Lord and Taylor," she replied the affirmative, graciously accepting Nick's hand as she stepped into the cab and told the driver her address. "So?" she asked as he sat down next to her and shut the door. "What do you think?"_

_Nick gazed at her inquisitive eyes with genuine awe and interest, a soft smile on his lips. "How can I say no?" She smiled at this when he suddenly held up his hand, his pointer finger erect. "On one condition." She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "You have to be there with us. I know Evelyn and Daisy would be very grateful if you were there…and so would I."_

_She blinked, as if surprised by the last statement he made, but shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure. Why not?"_

_He chuckled, unable to suppress himself. "Tell me something, Desiree, just why do you try to be so cool about everything?"_

_She shrugged again, this time looking out the window. "I was trained to be…it's not easy, but that's how it's supposed to be for someone like me."_

"_It doesn't have to be," he tried to reason with her, mindlessly placing his hand on hers. Realizing what he had done, he quickly withdrew. "Er, sorry…" Raising his head, he saw her staring at him, her stormy hued eyes full of longing and a hint of fear. "…are you afraid of me?"_

_She shook her head vehemently, her eyes cast downward. "…I just don't want to be used…I let myself get close with someone I thought was kind and…it turned out ugly." When he stared at her, waiting for an explanation, she sighed and confessed, "He was a rich young man and he charmed me, but I found out too little too late that he was seeing someone behind my back. That's why I act this way." Tilting her head at him, she added, "There's something honest about you, Nick. I don't see it in a lot of people…I guess that's what I like about you." She blushed. "Also, you tend to stammer a lot when you're nervous."_

"_O-Oh, is that so?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. Realizing what he had done, the two of them laughed. "Desiree," he said, becoming sober suddenly as he reached for her hand again. "Please don't be afraid to show who you really are, especially not in front of me." He couldn't help but recall how Gatsby was constantly kissing Evelyn's hand, and without another thought he took her hand in his and placed his lips upon her skin. As he did so, their eyes met, and somehow, slowly but surely, their faces neared, closer and closer, until at last, their eyes shut and their lips met._

_It was as if he was floating on a cloud – he could taste the vanilla ice cream they had shared on her lips as a tendril of her hair came down and tickled his cheek. _

_The driver cleared his throat, causing the two to pull apart blushing as the elderly man announced they had arrived to the estate. Nick paid the man before Desiree could stop him and helped her down out of the cab, ordering the gentleman to wait for him._

"_Would you mind it if I stopped by your workplace again at lunch?" she murmured as he led her to her front door._

"_I wouldn't mind it at all," he responded gently, nuzzling her hair._

"_Well then…good night, Nick." She stepped on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his once again, smiling shyly before calmly walking inside and shutting the door. Grinning like a fool, he returned the cab._

"_Where to, sir?"_

"_West Egg…"_

* * *

"Here we are, sir," the cab driver said, drawing him out of his thoughts as they came to a halt in front of the bungalow.

"Thank you," Nick acknowledged him, handing him his pay. "Keep the change."

The man thanked him and waited until he was out before pulling out and away from the place back onto the main road. As be started towards the porch, he realized that there was someone – or rather some people – standing off to the other side of the path, looking up at Gatsby's house. Squinting, he could see that it was Gatsby himself, along with Evelyn, who seemed to be whispering something to him that made him shake his head. When she motioned her head towards him, that was when he realized that she was telling him to go and ask about the favor. Stepping forward, he raised his voice.

"Your house looks like the World's Fair," he commented, earning their attention. "Or Coney Island."

"Does it?" Gatsby asked, trying to look calm as he spoke.

"I better get inside," Evelyn said, winking at the men before excusing herself. "Thank you again for everything, Jay." Tilting her head, she pecked his cheek and took off, never looking back.

Gatsby remained frozen for a moment, reaching towards his face after a few seconds had passed to touch the place where she had kissed him. Nick bit back a chuckle, pretending to be interested in his watch until he saw Gatsby unconsciously smile.

"Oh! I wanted to let you know," he informed him. "I'm going to call Daisy tomorrow to invite her to tea."

Immediately, Gatsby took on a look of surprise before brushing it off. "Oh, you don't have to do that-"

"It's no problem at all," Nick insisted. "What day's good for you?"

"Whatever's good for you," Gatsby replied, looking like a child at Christmas, ready to open his gifts.

"The day after tomorrow?" Nick suggested.

"Perfect," Gatsby smiled. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth once, twice, then on the third try came out with, "…thank you." Nick nodded, thinking that was the end of it when Gatsby spoke once more. "You're in the bonds business, aren't you, old sport?"

"Why, yes."

"If you don't mind me asking, you don't make much do you?"

"Well…"

"You see," Gatsby said, lowering his voice a smidge. "I'd like to repay you for this. I happen to run a little business on the side, you see. It's not ideal, but you might make a nice bit of money."

Immediately, Nick got a bad feeling about this "sideline" job he had. "I'm fine with where I am, really, but thanks."

"Well, you wouldn't have to do any business with Wolfsheim, I assure you," Gatsby reasoned, thinking perhaps that his associate had frightened Carraway.

"It's a favor, Jay, just a favor!" Nick insisted, offering a friendly smile.

Gatsby stared at him, stunned. "A favor?"

"Yes. That's what friends do, isn't it? Do favors for one another? Think nothing of it. You've already done so much for us. Really, it would be my pleasure to help."

Gatsby continued to stare until he suddenly chuckled, his eyes shining with such genuine happiness that Nick couldn't help but feel happy as well. "You know, I had the same conversation with Evelyn about this…friendship, I mean," he said, making it perfectly clear he didn't mention anything to her about the secret side work he was doing. "She had the same response as you." Giving a little bow, he smiled and repeated, "Thank you, Nick."

Mimicking the gesture, Nick grinned and waved goodbye.

"I don't suppose you'd let me send the gardener over soon to trim your lawn?" Gatsby called out last minute.

"Sure, why not," Nick shook his head with a chuckle. "Good night, Jay." Heading back for the house, he glanced up at the sky, admiring the stars above. "What a day…"

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and please don't forget to leave a review! PS: I own nothing except my OCs.


	7. The Light

_Chapter Seven – The Light_

Evelyn watched as Nick drove away to work, waving until she could no longer see him. Twisting her hair into a bun, she reentered the house and headed for the enormous pile of laundry that had to be folded and put away. Heaving a sigh, she got to work and completed the task within record time when she heard a knock on the door.

"Hmm," she muttered, setting aside the now empty basket and smoothing out any wrinkles in her skirt before going to answer the door. Opening it, she found herself face to face with Jay Gatsby, dressed to impress in a morning grey suit. "Somehow I knew it would be you," she grinned, watching him as he returned he gesture.

"I do hope I'm not intruding," he started.

"Please," she cut him off. "What I wouldn't give for a few intrusions when all the company I have is a bucket load of laundry."

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Well, then, perhaps I might be able to convince you to come over to my home for a moment? You see, I'm expecting some guests and I was hoping I could ask you to make a cake to serve with some tea when they arrive."

"I'd love to," she beamed, delighted at the opportunity to be with Gatsby as well as bake. "But your guests won't see me, will they-?"

"And why shouldn't they?"

"Well, I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion, especially not if I'm going to be baking, and secondly there's no reason for them to see m-"

"Of course there!" he insisted, taking her hand in his and completing his usual ritual of kissing it. "You're a dear friend and I would be honored to introduce you to them. They're a respectable family, but none of the kind we happened to see in the restaurant yesterday," he winked.

Giggling, she shook her head and sighed in defeat. "Just give me a moment to grab some things…" Inviting him into the parlor, she dashed off to her room and grabbed a soft red dress that Desiree had chosen for her ages ago along with matching shoes and placed them into a side satchel before tossing in her hairbrush, some ribbons, and her notebook in which she kept all her favorite recipes from home. "Ready," she called out to him as she shut the bag and slug it over her shoulder. Stepping out to meet him, she led him to the door and grabbed the keys, locking it behind them before they turned to go.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to her.

She accepted, letting him led her through the lawn to the back entrance of the estate. Upon entering the mansion, Herzog appeared with two glasses of orange juice.

"Ms. Keller, may I interest you in some refreshments?" he asked in his gravelly voice.

"You're too kind, Mr. Herzog," she smiled brightly, accepting the glasses, handing one of them to Gatsby.

The butler cracked a smile at this. He had told her several times upon her visits that she did not need to treat him formally, but she insisted on being polite and the truth was he rather liked it. He found her charming and he knew his master was extremely fond of the young woman as well. He sincerely hoped that the girl would continue to be a part of their lives, even after Gatsby reunited with Daisy. That was all he could do, really…hope and keep silent…

"The kitchen is at your disposal," Herzog informed them. "Please notify me if there is anything I can do for you."

"Thank you," Gatsby nodded, grinning as Evelyn placed a kiss on the butler's cheek before dragging him away to get started. He caught the man's eye and winked before turning his attention back to the girl that tugged him excitedly into the kitchen. "He's not accustomed to gestures like that, but personally, I think he likes it when you kiss and hug him."

"He's like a fatherly figure who's much too stiff," Evelyn laughed, emitting a small squeak of delight when she saw the baking goods and measuring items laid out for her on the table. "You have an amazing staff! And the quality of these ingredients-!"

"Only the best for you and my guests," he said, heading to a chair that held a fluttering, lace-lined rose-pink apron. Grabbing it, he handed it to her when the shrill cry of the telephone sounded in the air. He frowned at this, knowing it had to be about business.

"You'd better take care of that," she encouraged him, placing the fabric over her body. Nodding her head to the door, she smiled and promised, "Don't worry, I'll still be here when you get back."

Chuckling, he excused himself, leaving her to get to work.

Immediately, she immersed herself in work, following the instructions in her book. Having more than enough ingredients, she began to make a second batch to make cupcakes. By the time she was taking the cake out and putting the cupcakes into the oven, she was already working on icing.

"Something smells good," she heard Gatsby say as he reentered the room.

"I hope it tastes just as good as it smells," she added, working to whip the cream, sugar, and vanilla to create the thick frosting she loved on this particular cake.

"I know it will," he smiled. "Mmh, frosting!"

"Here," she grinned, scooping a small spoonful and feeding it to him. "What do you think?"

"Mm…I'm not sure, I might need another dose just to make sure," he joked, tapping his chin in thought as he mischievously raised an eyebrow.

Laughing, she tapped the frosting with her finger and smeared it on his nose.

"My God, how dare she!" Gatsby could hear a servant hissing as she hid behind the door. "Has she no fear of the master? Doesn't she respect him?!"

"On the contrary," Herzog's voice came suddenly, causing the woman to squeak in fright and embarrassment. "She respects and admires Mr. Gatsby, and he in turn respects and admires her. Now, what are you supposed to be doing?"

Wiping the frosting off of his face, he ate it with a smile, tossing a pinch of flour at the girl, ignoring the servant's comments. It was all true – Evelyn treated him as a person, regardless of who he was and what their social statuses were, and he loved it. He craved it, this feeling of being free and happy and not caring what he did because she wouldn't judge him. The best of all of this was that he knew she was being true to herself; she never put on a face or attitude and acted as if she were another person as so many rich folk did. He longed to share his secrets with her, about a man named James Gatz…but it wasn't time.

"Mr. Gatsby, sir…? Oh, my." Herzog's eyes became huge as he intruded the flour fight that Gatsby and Evelyn had started. Struggling to hide his shock and amusement, he stated, "Mr. Whitner and his family have arrived-"

"I smell cake!"

The small, high-pitched voice with a British accent sing out through the air as a dark-haired child ran into the kitchen and up to the couple. The little girl couldn't have been any older than five, missing a tooth on her lower set of teeth but showing off a beautiful, innocent smile. "Hullo! Are you Mrs. Gatsby? Or the cook?"

Evelyn couldn't hold back a laugh as she shook her head, trying to rub the flour off of her face. "Neither, I'm afraid," she giggled, kneeling down and offering her hand. "I'm Evelyn Keller, Mr. Gatsby's neighbor."

"And a very dear friend," Gatsby added with smile.

"Winny!" a pair of voices drifted in, the two parents stepping into the room and stopping dead in the tracks upon seeing the mess. "Oh my…" the mother gaped.

"It wasn't me this time!" the child, Winny, protested.

"A-ha…I see," the man grinned impishly. "Tell me, Jay, are we interrupting anything?"

**~JG~**

Daisy's voice fluttered through the phone into Nick's ear as he spoke with her. "Yes, that's right, tomorrow at 4. Is that alright?"

"Tea at your place? But of course, my lovely!"

"And Daisy, please come alone. Don't bring Tom. Don't even tell him you're coming." He was worried if Tom found out what was going on everything would be ruined, but Daisy may find this arrangement a little odd…

"Tom? Tom who?" came the giggling response.

Giving a breath of relief, he said his goodbyes and well-wishes before he hung up and turned his attention to the beautiful young woman sitting on the corner of his desk.

"Ready for lunch?" Desiree asked, smiling coyly at him.

"Let me grab my hat," Nick chuckled, taking his jacket, hat, and wallet before offering his arm and leading her away from the office.

"I know a little place nearby, Nick. The food's good and the prices are fair."

"What, you think I'm _that_ poor?"

"No, but if I asked you to take me to The Roman Gardens, you wouldn't be able to purchase a single drink."

"Touché." Taking the elevator, they waited as it slowly took them down to the main floor. "…you're not…ashamed that I'm…?"

"Not rich? Don't be silly." Standing on her toes, she pecked his cheek, earning a smile from him. "I don't care about money. True, it's very helpful, but I'd take you over Teddy Mason any day."

"Teddy who?"

"That fellow who stole Jordan away at Gatsby's party a week ago."

"Oh, him." He shrugged exiting the elevator with her.

"I thought you liked her, you know."

"Who? Evelyn?"

"Goodness, no! Jordan."

Nick laughed, kissing her temple. "She scares me a little to be perfectly honest."

"I can understand that," she nodded. "She's intimidating." Pointing the way out, she smiled as she felt him cautiously grip her hand. Squeezing his to show she accepted, she took him into the establishment and they were served at once. "Tell me, Nick," she said as they took their seats and waited for the server to return. "Have you always been into bonds? I mean, did you know that was what you wanted to do…?"

He shook his head with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Um, no…I actually hoped that I would write books someday."

"Well, why don't you?" she asked, placing her chin atop her hands as she watched and listened with interest.

"I don't know…there's no…no inspiration, I suppose," he shrugged. "I used to write for the college newspaper, but I had reasons to write, there were events, debates, and so forth…if I write a book, I want it to be special…people will pick it up and become engrossed, they'll be intrigued…they'll be inspired and never forget it."

Desiree stared at him, saying nothing, absorbing everything he said and watching his face.

He gave a nervous chuckle and stammered, "B-But, that's just…a dream, right?"

"America was built on dreams, wasn't it?" she asked. "Books are made from life's experiences and dreams people have of their work being published and shared…" Reaching out, she grasped his hand and smiled. "When you find that inspiration, I'll be there to support you."

**~JG~**

"She's a darling," cooed Mary Whitner as she watched Evelyn helping her daughter to frost a cupcake. "How did you ever find her?"

"She found me," Gatsby smiled.

"I come here to show you some new ideas they'll be making for clothing in England and here you are covered in flour with a charming little stranger," Jonah Whitner laughed. "And this cake is divine!"

"She says it's an old family recipe," Gatsby informed them, biting into his own slice.

"Jay, are you and Ms. Keller…?" Whitner began.

"No…no, we're not," he responded, glancing back at her. He sounded almost reluctant to utter the word. But it was Daisy he pined for, and Daisy he would have come tomorrow afternoon.

"Look, Mummy! Evelyn said we can take these home! I frosted these!" Winny called as she ran to her mother and showed her a basket full of the sweets.

"Oh my goodness, darling!" Mary exclaimed, embracing her daughter and kissing her forehead. "They look wonderful!"

"I get to keep them, right?" Whitner grinned.

"Nope!" Winny smiled sweetly.

Having changed into her red dress and cleaned off her face, Evelyn looked like a sophisticated young woman, not a flour-coated servant. Grinning at the family, she said, "I'm really very sorry about earlier, but your daughter is such an angel!"

"Well, most of the time," Mary grimaced.

"You're sure you won't stay longer, old sport?" Gatsby asked, getting up as the British family arose from their seats.

"No, I'm afraid I can't," he shook his head. "I have to visit a relative, and I promised Winny we would look at the Statue of Liberty after stopping by Beckingdale's Toy Store."

"Yay!" Winny cheered, causing the adults to laugh.

"Well then, we wish you well. Until next time, old sport." Gatsby shook hands with Whitner, kissed Mary's cheek, then spun Winny around. "There's a surprise for you in the car," he whispered in her ear, causing her to light up at once.

"Thank you, Jay!" she squealed, embracing him tightly. Before running off, she tackled Evelyn, compelling the woman to kneel down and hug her. "Promise me you'll be back on our next visit and show me how to make cupcakes?" she asked innocently.

"Well, I can't promise anything, but I certainly will try," Evelyn responded honestly, accepting a hug from the child. "Be good, Winny. Goodbye!"

Gatsby and Evelyn saw them off, laughing once more as Winny screamed in delight upon seeing a beautiful porcelain doll from Gatsby in their car. Together they waved as the car took off, shrinking in the distance.

"They're a lovely family," Evelyn commented.

"They are indeed," Gatsby agreed, slipping his hands into his pockets. Facing her, he raised an eyebrow and gave a coy smile. "They were rather taken with you."

"Me?!" she scoffed. "Really? After seeing me covered in flour? Speaking of which, I'm so sorry about-"

"I'd like to thank you," he grinned. "That was the most fun I've had in a long time."

"More fun than the hydroplane?" she asked, skeptical.

"Much more," he chuckled. Looking her in the eye, he asked, "How would you like to join me on a little trip to Coney Island before returning and getting ready for the party tonight?"

"Right now?" she asked, her hair falling over her eyes as the wind playfully passed by. Reaching for her face, he tucked her coppery auburn locks away, causing her face to blossom into a bright pink shade. "Right now." Winking, he turned and ordered Herzog to bring out the car, offered his arm to Evelyn once more and led her to the fountain as they waited.

"I'm afraid it needs more gas," Herzog informed him once it was brought out.

"We'll take care of it," Gatsby replied. Helping Evelyn into the car, they drove out of West Egg. Little by little, she could see the Valley of Ashes becoming closer and closer. Pulling over to the side, he stopped the car upon arriving at a humble, run-down gas station. Cleaning a car part on the porch was the owner, a handsome but filthy man who seemed to have no hope or happiness in his eyes. Upon seeing them pull up, he set the part down and hurried to them.

"Need more gas?" he offered politely.

"Fill her up, old sport," Gatsby nodded.

As he got to work, he glanced at Evelyn and asked, "…didn't you come off the train about a week ago?"

"Yes…" she admitted with uncertainty.

"A fella named Nick Carraway took you," he stated, causing both Gatsby and Evelyn to gawk at him.

"How did you-?" she asked.

"Mr. Carraway was with Mr. Buchanan a few days back, they stopped by to say hello," he explained. "Mr. Buchanan mentioned you."

"Did he?" she frowned, not liking the idea of that scumbag adulterer mentioning her to anyone.

"Yeah…your friend said you came from Kansas." He gave a shy smile and added, "I'm from there, too. Moved out here in hopes of making some nice money for me and my wife, Myrtle."

Her brows furrowed at the mention of the woman's name, the memory of Nick mentioning her and the name of her poor husband who had no idea what was going on. "Oh! You're George Wilson!" she exclaimed. "Yes, Nick mentioned you."

"How's business these days?" Gatsby asked, noticing how desolate it was.

"Oh, we get by," he shrugged. "It's a nice car ya got, sir."

"Thanks. Haven't you got something to use?"

"Been waiting on Mr. Buchanan…says he's got a car he'll give me but he's always got someone working on it," he mumbled.

Gatsby scratched his chin in contemplation, his brows knitting together as he thought. "…listen here, old sport – Wilson, is it? – I've got an appointment tomorrow afternoon, but I can drop by in the morning and show you a car I've got no use for that's in good condition if you're interested."

Wilson's jaw almost dropped, but he quickly stammered, "W-well, I don't wanna cause any trouble, Mister…?"

"Gatsby. Jay Gatsby. And it's no trouble at all."

"I won't be taken for a fool-"

"I give you my word as an honest gentleman that I will be here at nine o'clock sharp with that car." Offering the man his hand, he asked, "Do we have an agreement?"

He hesitantly reach for Gatsby but faltered. "I…I can't pay off-"

"It'll be a gift, and you'd do me a favor by taking it off my hands, old sport," he insisted.

A small smile began to grow as hope shone in his sad blue eyes. He shook Gatsby's hand, thanking him profusely before wrapping up the job and charging Gatsby for the gas.

"Keep the change," Gatsby smiled, tipping his hat at him. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Wilson." Driving off, he watched from the corner of his eye as Evelyn waved goodbye to Wilson.

"He looks like a good man, that Wilson fellow," Gatsby commented.

"He does," she nodded. "There's something about his eyes and chin that remind me of my father." Turning to Gatsby, she grinned and said, "You never fail to surprise me, Jay. That was a good thing you did back there."

"Well, if you say so-" he started, stopping as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I say so."

**~JG~**

Nick and Desiree squeezed through the crowd as they had done so the last time they were there. Having found no sign of Evelyn at the cottage that evening, Desiree suggested that they try Gatsby's, bringing them to step through the masses in the backyard of Gatsby's massive home.

"Excuse me, Herzog!" Nick called, catching sight of the butler. "Herzog!"

"Mr. Carraway, Ms. Lancaster." Herzog nodded, going to them at once. "What can I do for you?"

"Have you seen Evelyn, or Jay?" Nick asked, having to strain his voice over the music.

"Ms. Keller came over this afternoon and spend a few hours here before leaving with Mr. Gatsby to Coney Island," he responded, stunning the couple.

"Looks like Jay kept her busy," Desiree winked.

"Indeed," he nodded with a hint of a smile on his straight lips. "They returned an hour ago-"

"Nick, old sport! Desiree!" Gatsby materialized out of nowhere, startling everyone except Herzog.

"Shall I get you some refreshments?" the servant asked politely.

"No, thank you," Nick shook his head, Desiree mimicking him. They watched him as he excused himself and left before returning their attention to Gatsby. Squinting through the party lights, Nick offered Gatsby his hand. "We were wondering where you and Evelyn were."

"Sorry about that, old sport," Gatsby chuckled, shaking hands with his friend. "I took her to Coney Island."

"Did you now?" Desiree smirked.

"She wanted to come in and sing tonight, at least for a few hours. She should be-"

"_I've seen the world,_

_Done it all,_

_Had my cake now._

_Diamonds, brilliant_

_And Bel Air now._

_Hot summer nights, mid-July,_

_When you and I were forever wild._

_The crazy days, city lights,_

_The way you'd play with me like a child."_

Gatsby froze, seeming statue-like as the words floated above their heads. Nick and Desiree listened, enchanted, before all three of them turned their heads to face the stage. Standing straight before the crowds, dressed in a midnight blue gown that glittered like the stars above and flowed around her ankles was Evelyn, her hair curled and cascading all around her face as she closed her eyes and sang.

"_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will,_

_I know that you will…_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"_

"She's amazing!" Desiree whispered, beaming as she watched her friend, so elegant and dazzling.

"She really is," Nick grinned. Offering his hand, he asked, "May I have this dance?"

Slipping her hand into his, she let him lead her away before wrapping her arms around his neck and swaying to the music.

"So, you think Jay will ever realize?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her beau.

"Realize what?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Men are so dense."

"_I've seen the world, lit it up_

_As my stage now._

_Channeling angels in the new age now._

_Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll – _

_The way you play for me at your show,_

_And all the ways I got to know_

_Your pretty face and electric soul!"_

Gatsby kept his eyes on her as she sang the words, watching her sway along with the music from the band as she tucked a rogue strand of hair from her face. As she looked out to the audience – some people gawking at her in awe, others moving in time with their loved ones to the soft, wavering tones – her eyes met his, and he found himself walking to her.

"_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will,_

_I know that you will…_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"_

Standing before her, Gatsby lifted his arm, his palm facing skyward. The message was clear, and for some reason he couldn't comprehend, he felt as though his life depended on the response she would give him.

Her small, smooth hand slipped into his, their eyes still locked on one another, as she stepped down from the stage and stood before him. Cautiously wrapping his arm around her waist, the feeling of her free hand on his shoulder sent sparks through him. As he guided her on the dance floor, he could sense all eyes on them, but he in turn only had eyes for her.

"_Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven…_

_Please let me bring my man!_

_When he comes tell me that you'll let him in,_

_Father tell me if you can._

_Oh, that grace, oh that body!_

_Oh, that face makes me wanna party._

_He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds…"_

Chills traveled through his spine as he listened to the words she sang to him – she _had_ to be singing them to him, why else would she look at him so intently with every word?! – compelling him to pull her in closer to his body.

"_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will,_

_I know that you will…_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful…?"_

Their bodies slowed as the song drifted to its end, their faces nearing for a moment before they both pulled away, suddenly realizing what was happening. Still, his heart ached as he listened to her.

"_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful…?"_

Behind her, the green light from Daisy's dock blinked, causing Evelyn to be engulfed its glow, as though it were her aura.

"_Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful…?"_

* * *

**A/N: **I own nothing but the OCs and fluff. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and a big thanks to those who follow and fave the story. Hope you enjoyed it and I'll see you at the next chapter!


	8. The Reunion

_Chapter Eight – The Reunion_

"_Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful…?"_

The words kept echoing in her mind no matter how much she tried to shake it away as she took the lemon cupcakes out of the oven.

"Are you seeing this?!" Nick whispered, peeking through the window.

Lifting her head, she struggled to make her laugh sound like a cough when she saw Gatsby's gardener mowing his lawn. Several figures in the distance were already making their way over with what appeared to be very large and lavish plants. "He's going all out," she noted, returning her attention to the cupcakes. "Nick, would you be a dear and get out the tea set?"

Tearing his attention away from the scene outside his window, Nick went to the cupboard and did as he was asked, placing the tea set Gatsby had bought for them on the countertop. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of irony as he recalled how Gatsby brought it over and said they might use it if a guest came over. A knock at the door distracted him, however, and he bounded over to answer it. "Desiree-!"

"Scoot over," she told him, yanking him outside onto the porch swing before a line of servants walked in as rain began to fall from the sky. He watched with wide eyes as man after man walked in with giant pots, vases, and baskets filled with humongous arrangements of large white flowers. Behind the barrage of men was Gatsby, followed by faithful Herzog who held up an umbrella as they came towards the house.

"Everything seems to be all right," Gatsby said, sounding stiff and forced as he came up the steps onto the porch of Nick's home.

"Yes, and I see you've got the grass cut," Nick jested, remembering how Gatsby had mentioned he would send someone over to deal with the lawn.

"What grass?" Gatsby asked, staring at him in unfocused confusion.

"Never mind, let's go inside," Desiree waved it off, motioning for the men to enter.

Herzog bowed and excused himself before returning the way he came as they stepped inside. No sooner had they done so, the trio had to step off to the side as the troupe of servants hurried out the door and vanished into the rainy afternoon.

"Wow," Desiree commented, noticing how the parlor was now filled with the enormous arrangements.

"Nick, he's ordered a rainforest! It's incredible!" Evelyn's voice resounded from the kitchen. "Have you seen it?!"

"We're looking at it right now," Nick chuckled. It did not escape his notice, however, when Gatsby's head jerked in the direction of the kitchen when Evelyn spoke. The moment she stepped out to greet him, his posture loosened just a smidge.

"You're looking as handsome as ever," she smiled. "Excited?"

"…yes. Yes, I'm…" he stumbled, fixing his tie and gripping his cane.

"Well, why don't we all wait in the parlor?" she suggested, ushering them in. "I'll have the tea ready in a few minutes."

The two males and Desiree found their places in the parlor and sat down, the ticking of the clock suddenly loud and distracting as the rain continued to fall. Gatsby arose from his seat, marching to the mantle where the clock sat and checked his own watch. Glancing over at Nick and Desiree, who sat side by side on the sofa, he gestured to the room. "I don't suppose there's anything else I could do?"

"Perhaps more flowers?" Nick jested, causing Desiree to bite back a snicker.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Gatsby asked, his eyes boring into Nick's.

"…I think…it's what you want it to be"

He nodded, temporarily satisfied with the answer. Turning promptly, he returned to his seat, sitting down stiffly with his cane at hand. His lips pressed together firmly into a thin line, he gripped the cane's handle tighter and tighter, the ticking of the mantle clock ominous and nerve-wracking.

"She's not coming," he said angrily, getting to his feet.

Nick raised an eyebrow, perplexed by his behavior. "It's only two minutes to four-!"

"I'm going home, this was silly," he snapped.

"Oh, for the love of God!" Desiree growled. "Don't be ridiculous."

"She's not-!" Gatsby started again.

"She's here!" Evelyn's cheerful voice came from the kitchen, cutting him short.

As if to reaffirm her cry, three short honks came from outside, accompanied by the sound of tires sloshing through mud.

"There, you see?" Nick grinned, getting up from his seat and hurrying to the door with Desiree in tow.

Pulling up to the little bungalow, the fine white car slowed to a halt, giving Nick enough time to grab an umbrella and rug. Shielding himself from the rain, he cautiously placed the old rug over the soggy grass and mud before opening the door for Daisy.

Stepping daintily onto the rug, she placed herself at Nick's side and gazed at the little house with a smile. "I'm so glad you've invited me, my dearest one. I saw your home last time when we came for Evelyn a few days ago."

"She told me about it," Nick grinned, kissing her cheek and earning one in return. "Now I get to show you the inside." Glancing at the man inside, he told Daisy, "Tell your driver to come back in an hour."

"Be back in an hour, Ferdy," she called to him before letting Nick guide her to the front porch. "His name is Ferdy," she repeated, almost as if to remind herself.

"Hi, Daisy!" Evelyn said, standing by the open door with a towel at hand, just in case.

"Evelyn, darling! And Desiree!" Daisy squealed in delight. "This is a real treat!" Kissing them both on the cheek, she let the trio usher her in as she glanced around at her surroundings. "Why did I have to come on my own, Nicky? Are you madly in love with me?" she smirked playfully.

Nick laughed with a wince, unaccustomed to Daisy's teasing. "Won't you have a seat in the parlor while we get the tea?" They all stood there in the hall, waiting to hear some sort of big reaction when she saw Gatsby…

"Oh…! Oh, how lovely!" she exclaimed, causing them all to exchange confused looks. "Did you purchase a whole greenhouse for me?!" Tiptoeing over to the room, the peered in and looked about. Evelyn blinked, unable to believe that Gatsby had vanished.

"Where is he?!" Desiree hissed through her teeth as she scanned the area.

Nick said nothing but pointed to the French doors in the room that led to a verandah outside. They were cracked open, allowing the cool air from outside waft in.

"My God, he really is in love with me," Daisy whispered with a giggle as she sniffed the flowers.

"How will we…?" Evelyn started when a fierce knock at the door stunned them to silence.

Looking at the girls before casting one final glance at the open doors, Nick walked down the hall and to the front door, his eyes widening as he saw a drenched man standing before him. "Jay!" he gasped. "What happened-?!"

Gatsby was soaked, his hair falling over his tormented blue eyes as he hastily walked in and took a detour through the kitchen.

Desiree and Evelyn gawked at him before turning to look at each other, unable to believe the sight. "He's gone stark mad!" Desiree whispered before peeking into the parlor to see what would happen.

Daisy could sense movement behind her, and in hearing voices she assumed that perhaps another guest had come to tea. Looking over her shoulder to cast the stranger a careless smile, she felt her body go numb, her face pale as she saw the drenched form of Jay Gatsby standing only a few feet away, slowly raising his gaze so that their eyes met. With trembling lips, she finally spoke. "…I'm certainly glad to see you again."

Nodding once, he softly stammered, "…I-…I'm certainly glad to see you as well."

No one moved. A minute passed, then two…

"That's enough of that," Evelyn murmured, moving away and stepping into the kitchen.

The sound of her footsteps seemed to snap everyone out of their enchanted trance, causing them to turn and peer at the kitchen where Evelyn poured the tea into the elegant teapot and prepared the gorgeous set. Placing the cupcakes on a separate plate, she gathered the cream and sugar onto the tray and stepped forth. "C'mon, Nick," she urged him in a hushed tone. Understanding, he walked in with her, motioning for Desiree to join them.

"Please, won't you sit down?" he asked them.

Shaking, Daisy sat on a wicker chair, averting her eyes to the floor. Gatsby in turn stood by the mantle once more, his arm resting against the clock. Desiree took a seat on the sofa as Evelyn set the tea set on the coffee table.

"Allow me," Nick insisted, pouring the tea into the cups provided. Evelyn sat beside her friend, watching the others with confusion and expectancy.

Curling his fingers into a fist, Gatsby put a smile on his face and said, "...we've…we've met bef-" With a nudge from his elbow, the clock came tumbling down. He caught it swiftly with both hands, breathing heavily as he brought it back up. "I… I'll just…" he stammered. "…send someone over immediately for repair…" Evelyn heard him mutter. He began to mercilessly pound a broken piece of the clock back into place before stepping back, running his fingers through his hair. "…sorry about the clock," he apologized as he took a seat opposite of Daisy.

"It's an old clock," Nick shrugged.

"A lovely clock," Daisy added quickly.

"Yes," Gatsby agreed.

Again the room fell silent, while Nick continued to pour tea and handed the cups out to each person.

"…we haven't seen each other in… many years," Daisy spoke, breaking the awkward silence again.

"Five years in November," Gatsby verified, causing her to glance over at him sad, doe-like eyes.

They stared at each other, then looked away quickly, as if they just remembered they should not be looking at the other.

"…how is the tea?" Evelyn asked, accepting her own cup.

"Fine," both Gatsby and Daisy answered, causing them to rapidly share glances before staring off at the wall. Mechanically, they both sipped from their cups, neither one uttering a sound.

Evelyn frowned, catching sight of Desiree's irked face and Nick's exasperation. This was not how any of them imagined the reunion would be like. Getting up, Evelyn began to move away.

"Evelyn?" Gatsby asked, his head jerking up to follow her movements.

"I just remembered, Desiree and I forgot to buy apples," she lied, her eyes locking with Nick and Desiree.

"That's right," Desiree agreed at once, hopping to her feet and stepping out of the room breezily.

"You know what, you're right," Nick spoke, getting to his feet and following them. "We're going into town."

"_Town_?!" Gatsby asked, his voice keeping in panic.

"We'll be back before you know it," he reassured them. "Hurry," he whispered to the girls, trotting to the front door.

"Nick!" Gatsby called, jumping after them with a sudden burst of speed. "I've got to speak to you about something."

"Sure, you can tell me when we get back," Nick reassured him as he and the girls slipped on their coats and he snatched his hat. "Quick, the umbrellas," he urged them, but Gatsby had them cornered.

"Stop!" he begged in a whisper, grabbing Nick as Desiree began to open the door. "This is a mistake! A terrible, terrible mistake!" he hissed, gripping onto Nick for support as he frantically spoke.

"Would you knock it off and let go of him?!" Desiree snapped, struggling to yank Gatsby off of poor Carraway.

"You're just embarrassed. Daisy's embarrassed, too!" Nick replied.

Gatsby faced him, disbelief and hope fighting within him as uncertainty shone in his eyes. It was as though Nick had uncovered the secret to entire life with those words. "…_she's_ embarrassed?"

"Yes!" Nick insisted. "Just as much as you are."

"Don't talk so loud!" Gatsby hissed, yanking the trio outside onto the porch.

"Hey!" Desiree yelped.

"Jay, calm down!" Evelyn nearly exclaimed. Yanking her arm free from his hold, she slapped his shoulder and frowned. "Now, stop it!" she scolded him. "You're acting like a little boy! Daisy's in there all alone and-!"

He held his hand up, causing everyone to freeze. They watched as he let her words sink in, resolution showing as he furrowed his brows and nodded before straightening his sleeves and cautiously tiptoeing back inside. Stepping through the kitchen, he peered through the small window in the wall, watching Daisy as she played with her fingerless lace gloves, looking like a lost child waiting for her mother. He hesitated, turning to see if the others were still there.

"Oh Lord," Desiree sighed.

Quietly stepping in, Evelyn went to his side and began to straighten his tie. "It's been almost five years, right?" she whispered gently, smoothing out any wrinkles on his coat. "I'm sure you both have a lot to catch up on."

"But…but I-" he choked.

"Hey," she smiled, using her fingertips to gently brush away a stubborn stray lock away from his forehead. "You're Jay Gatsby. You can do this. And I know she'll be happy to finally see you and talk with you again."

He gazed at her, a sudden wave of serenity washing over him as she fixed his collar. "You think so?"

"I know so," she winked. Pecking his cheek, she motioned with tilt of her head at Daisy. "What're you waiting for?"

Raising his eyes, Gastby saw Desiree give him an encouraging smile and thumb's-up, while Nick reminded him to slick his hair back into place before entering. He did so, nodding at the two of them before looking down upon Evelyn once more. A small, shy smile graced his lips as he whispered, "Thank you."

"Go," she urged him, moving away and following the others outside as she snatched her umbrella. Together, the three of them hurried away from the house, coming to stop by an old withered oak that shielded them from the rain.

"Now what?" Desiree asked, leaning against Nick's frame as they stood together and shared the same umbrella.

"We wait, I guess," he shrugged. "Let's give them half an hour. That ought to be good enough."

"Hmm…what could we do I half an hour?" she asked, an impishly look upon her face as she moved to peck his cheek.

"I can think of a few things," he grinned slyly, claiming her lips as he wrapped his free arm around her.

Rolling her eyes, Evelyn shook her head with a smile before stepping away from the couple. Walking down the path, cautious of the mud, slime, and stones, she found a place by the shore, standing by another large tree as she gazed out at the bay, Daisy's green dock light still blinking at her from the other side. "Just half an hour…"

**~JG~**

At long last, the trio began to return to the quiet little bungalow, wary to see what exactly ensued after their departure.

"Do you think they're ok?" asked Desiree as they stepped inside and peeked through the kitchen.

A smile began to grow on Evelyn's lips as she saw that the two of them were deeply engaged in conversation in hushed tones, with bright and child-like smiles on their faces. "I think they're great."

"Ahem," Nick coughed, hoping to get the couple's attention. Still they talked on, not even realizing they were being watched. His brows knitting together in frustration, he shook his umbrella but to no avail. He rattled some cutlery on the dinner table (much to Evelyn's and Desiree's amusement) and at last got the two to look up and see who was there. "Hello," Nick smiled politely, taking off his hat at last. "It's stopped raining."

"Huh, so it has," Gatsby grinned, getting up and strolling over to the French doors. Opening them, he stepped on the verandah, placing his hand on one of the pillars. "Look at that, Daisy. It's stopped raining."

"How lovely," she cooed, following him out and mimicking his movements. Their pinkies touched, causing them to gaze at one another, small, gentle smiles stretching over their lips.

"Listen, old sport," Gatsby said suddenly, turning around and facing the trio. "I want you, the girls, and Daisy to come with me. I want to show you all my house."

"Oh, we don't have to go if you don't-" Nick protested.

"I insist," he said with a wink.

"Oh, please come with us!" Daisy implored, her face aglow as she skipped to the girls and took their hands. "It'll be so much fun!"

With a nod and smile, Evelyn consented. "That'd be wonderful."

Together, the unusual crew began the walk over to the Gatsby estate. He began to point out items that he had shipped over from other countries, all the flowers he had planted in the gardens, and once they had entered the building, he began to explain the bits of pieces of history that came with each artifact or piece of furniture.

"What a marvelous house!" Daisy sang, hurrying up the stairs.

"Isn't she amazing, old sport?" Evelyn could hear Gatsby whisper excitedly to Nick as they followed her up the stairs. She smiled at his joy, reminding her of a child at seeing the wonder of fireworks for the first time. Deep within, however, she could feel her heart being pricked by an invisible needle. Brushing it off, she and Desiree entered a simple but elegant room as Daisy gazed up at its second floor.

"I see you found my chambers," Gatsby chuckled, climbing the steps up to the second level of his room. There were drawers, bureaus, and cabinets lined on this floor, full of colorful clothing, shining buttons, and pristine shoes that had probably never been worn before. "I have a man back in England who buys me clothes and ships them over in time for each season," Gatsby explained as he began to tug the door open and grabbed handfuls of expensive shirts.

Immediately, Evelyn remembered the Whitner family, a smile coming to her face as she recalled how little Winny embraced her. Raising her eyes, she watched as Gatsby tossed his shirts out to Daisy, who hopped and bounced on his bed as she strove to catch all of them. She laughed gleefully, exclaiming how wonderful it all was until she suddenly slipped and landed upon her back on the plush sheets and mattress. From beneath the layers of shirts, they could hear her crying.

Gatsby rushed down, thinking she had hurt herself. Nick, Desiree, and Evelyn all hurried, stopping at the bedside to see what was going on. Gatsby brushed to shirts off of her, caressing her face. "Daisy? Daisy, what's wrong?"

Lifting her head, she wept, "…I've…never seen such…beautiful shirts…"

Evelyn sensed it had much more to do with things aside from shirts, but she held her tongue.

"Wait here," Gatsby said to Daisy. "I have something I want you to see." Getting up, he walked to a bookshelf and tugged out a thick volume of what appeared to be a photo album. Returning, he handed it to Daisy. "Have a look."

Flipping through the pages, she gasped in delight, her eyes sparkling at the sight of old letters, newspaper clippings, flowers, small mementos, and even a handkerchief. "Oh Nicky, Des, Evelyn, come look!" she cried to them. They stepped forward, leaning over her shoulder to see the artifacts from their past. "Oh, Jay! You kept all these?"

"Everything about you."

"Kind of creepy," whispered Desiree with a wink, causing Evelyn to giggle and Nick to send them a scolding look, though he couldn't help cracking a smile as well.

The cry of the telephone shook them out of their conversation as Herzog entered the room. "Mr. Gatsby, sir, Philadelphia on the line."

Gatsby gave them a weak smile before going to the phone installed in his quarters, speaking in hushed tones at first, but eventually raising his voice. "If that's his idea of a small town, then he can go to hell-!" he started saying, then readjusted his voice and finished, "Listen, we'll talk about this later, old sport. I'll call you back." Hanging up the phone, he sensed that there was a pair of eyes on him. Turning his head, he caught sight of Evelyn quickly turning her back to him as she paid attention to Daisy's sighs and murmurs. He felt a twinge a guilt shoot through him, though he couldn't quite understand why.

Tremors shook the establishment, startling the lot as Gatsby grinned. "Klipspringer's awake," he noted.

"Who's that?" Daisy asked playfully, raising her brows at him.

"The dubious descendant of Ludwig von Beethoven," Desiree said with a flourished air, causing the others to laugh.

"Shall we?" Gatsby asked, leading them out into the ballroom, where Klipspringer played an enormous organ several stories above them.

"Shall we dance?" Nick grinned, bowing to the ladies. Taking Daisy and Desiree by the hands, he spun them around and dipped Evelyn before snatching Daisy.

Gatsby chuckled as he watched them, jumping into the fray and taking Desiree for a spin. Evelyn giggled as she swayed and hopped, spinning and exchanging partners back and forth. Klipspringer's music suddenly changed drastically, compelling her to join in.

"_Love is blindness,  
I don't wanna see.  
Won't you wrap the night  
Around me?  
Oh, my heart…  
Love is blindness._

_Love is clockworks,_  
_And it's cold steel_  
_Fingers too numb to feel._  
_Squeeze the handle,_  
_Blow out the candle…_  
_Blindness."_

Klipspringer seemed to range on, his music pounding and thrashing, compelling the group to keep moving, kicking and waving and twisting as they continued to dance, never remaining with the same person for too long. As she listened to the seemingly furious tune, she felt that strange little prick at her heart grow, her brows furrowing for a moment before letting her frustration run free through her lips.

_"Love is drowning  
In a deep web.  
All the secrets  
And nobody else to tell.  
Take the money,  
Why don't you honey?  
Blindness…"_

She felt someone catch her and spin her around as she took a moment to breathe, thinking perhaps it was Nick. Opening her eyes, she was frozen in place to see Gatsby holding her, his eyes locked on her face with curiosity and wonder. Everything around them seemed to slow down, the pounding, furious song drowning out for just a moment.

_"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful…?"_

Daisy's mindless laugh shattered everything as Evelyn realized that Nick had released her from his hold, and she now twirled over in Gatsby's direction. With a harsh shove, Evelyn managed to get the man to let go and twist around, just in time for Daisy to bump into him. She watched their eyes lock and Daisy's smile become even larger. Gatsby stared at the woman's face, his smile slowly returning as he held her securely in his arms.  
Seeing this, she stepped away, her voice returning but much softer this time.

"_Love is Blindness, oh…_

_Oh, I'm too numb to feel...  
Blow out the candle,  
Blindness…"_

**~JG~**

It was dusk when Nick, Desiree, and Evelyn departed from the mansion. They quietly slipped away as Daisy and Gatsby continued to waltz in the enormous ballroom.

"Can I get you anything before you leave?" Herzog asked as they informed him they were returning home.

"No, thank you," Nick responded, waving goodbye. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

"Good night, Mr. Herzog," Evelyn winked at him, causing him to crack a smile at her.

"Good night, Ms. Keller." He ushered them out, shutting the doors behind them as they left. Stepping onto the gravel road, they could see the first set of stars peppered throughout the blue and orange sky.

"I'll take you home, Des" Nick said, offering his arm to her.

"Thank you," she nodded, accepting his arm. They walked on quietly, their eyes set on Evelyn as they made their way back to the little cottage. "Hey, Eve?"

"Hmm?" she asked, peeping at them quickly over her shoulder.

"Tell me something," the other girl said, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Back when we started dancing and you were singing, why did you fling Gatsby away like that?"

"What are you talking about?" she shrugged, thankful when she saw the path to the little house up ahead.

"You know what she's talking about," Nick frowned. "I saw it, too."

"Why'd you throw him to Daisy?" asked Desiree once more.

Facing them, she smiled beautifully, though they could see tears shining in her eyes in the twilight. "Because I'm not his green light." With that, she embraced the two, stating she was tired and hoped they would have a safe trip. Admitting defeat, Nick promised he would be back within the hour before helping Desiree into the old Dodge and driving down the street.

Evelyn remained on the steps, waving until they left. Slowly, she walked back into the house, locking the door behind her and heading straight for bed. She didn't bother cleaning up or even changing – she simply threw her shoes to one side of the floor and slipped under the covers, pulling them up to her chin.

"_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful…?"_

"He was never mine to begin with," she whispered, her tears finally breaking free from their hold. "…and I'm no Daisy." It was useless to be upset – she wanted Jay to be happy, and today just proved to her that they were both still in love with each other. So why did it feel like she was going to die if she saw them looking at each other and holding hands again…?

* * *

**A/N: **I own nothing except the OCs, typos, and insanity you may or may not find in this fic. Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, followers, and faves ;) I was blown away when I saw your messages and I really appreciate them, and especially from guest Stabson, FluffyHanyoEars, VampireSolidarity1, jaygatsbyforever, grapejuice101, and FAYZAIN (and anyone I didn't mention). Hope you enjoyed this one and I'll see you next time!


	9. The Heartache

_Chapter Nine – The Heartache_

"I'm worried about her, Nick," Desiree confessed as they pulled up to her house. "She's obviously in love with Gatsby, but she's too…too…_nice_!"

"What do you mean, 'nice'?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I mean she'd rather just go along and help him get with Daisy than tell him to forget about it and see her instead," Desiree clarified, tugging at her hair in frustration. "I've been in that position one too many times until Ulrich!"

"Who?"

"The creep I told you about, the one who broke my heart."

"Ah, you mean the man I'm going to hunt down."

She giggled at this, pecking his cheek. "Unnecessary, but thank you, Nicky."

Arriving at the estate, he parked the car and got out, running to the other side to help Desiree out. "Maybe I should have her come here for a few days," she suggested.

"Would you do that?" Nick asked brightly. "I think she might enjoy it."

"Of course! She's my friend," she insisted.

"Who is, dearest?"

Whipping their heads around, they saw a small but slender woman in a satin robe, her caramel locks a smidge lighter than Desiree's.

"Mother, don't scare us like that!" Desiree scolded her.

The woman laughed, waving at someone indoors. "Michael, come see Desiree's beau!"

"I-" Nick started, stopping when he saw a familiar looking gentlemen who happened to drop by his workplace occasionally to speak with his boss, Walter Chase. "Mr. Lancaster!"

"Call me Michael," he said, his baritone soothing and gentle, unlike Tom Buchanan's. He wore a bushy moustache and his brown hair was grey at the temples, but his stormy grey eyes shone playfully. "Desiree's told us all about you and your friend, Mr. Carraway, and Walter tells me you're a very devoted and hardworking man."

"W-Well, I wouldn't say-" Nick stammered.

"Care to join us for dinner?" Lancaster asked suddenly, leaving Nick stunned. "That is, if you're really serious about my daughter-"

"Oh, very much, sir," he nodded his head rapidly, causing Desiree to blush.

Chuckling, he stepped away from the door and motioned for them to step forward. "Come in, then. Let's get to know one another."

**~JG~**

Gatsby watched Daisy's car pull out of the driveway and vanish into the darkness, feeling elated and exhausted from so many emotions all at once. It happened…it really happened…he had finally been reunited with his beloved Daisy…and she would return again tomorrow, for the grand party he would be holding, along with her horrid husband, but no matter…Tom would be out of the picture once Daisy told him she was through and only loved one man, and his name was Jay Gatsby. None of this would have been possible if it weren't for Nick, Desiree, and Evelyn…

The thought of the trio snapped him back into reality. Where on earth were they?! It was well into the evening, and he had seen neither hide nor hair of any of them. "Herzog!"

"Mr. Gatsby." The servant appeared at his side in an instant, but this never surprised Gatsby.

"Herzog, old sport, where's Nick? What about Evelyn?" he demanded, turning back into the elusive mansion.

"They left nearly an hour ago, sir. They didn't wish to disturb you and your time with Mrs. Buchanan," he explained.

His brows furrowed at this. "…Evelyn didn't stop to say goodbye?"

"No, sir, not you at least," he shook his head. "She wished me and the servers a good night before departing with Ms. Lancaster and Mr. Carraway."

Gatsby gawked at the man, stunned. How could she just leave without saying good night? "I need the phone at once," he stated.

"Sir, may I remind you that Chicago has been on the line for some time now-"

"I don't give a damn if the President himself is calling – get the line cleared now so I can talk to Evelyn!" he insisted.

Herzog bowed and took off, shaking his head. _"Oh, Mr. Gatsby, I'm sure everyone would appreciate it if you made up your mind on who it is you really want…"_ Notifying another servant, he only had to wait a minute before they informed him that the telephone could be used. "It's ready sir."

"Finally," Gatsby muttered, taking off to his bedroom. Shutting the door, he picked up the phone and dialed the number to Nick's home, waiting as it rang. Looking over his shoulder, he could vaguely make out the glow of Daisy's dock light through the fog. Somehow, instead of giving him that desperate hope he constantly yearned for until now, he felt a nagging, prodding feeling, as though the light was teasing him, as if he hadn't achieved his goal. "Pick up, pick up…" he murmured when the phone clicked to life.

"M-hello?" a familiar female voice spoke on the line, soft and drowsy-like as though she had been asleep just seconds ago.

"Hello? Evelyn?" he asked, his heart beating fast all of a sudden. "It's Jay. Jay Gatsby."

The line went quiet for a minute, causing his stomach to flip and twist in anxiety. "Evelyn…?"

"I…I'm still here," she responded, coughing to clear her throat.

"Were you asleep?" he asked, wincing as he realized that he woke her up.

"Wh-what?! Psh! No!...all right, yes, I was," she admitted sheepishly.

He laughed, feeling all his concerns vanish as he listened to her voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right. I must've-" She stopped, the line going quiet again.

He frowned. "Must have what?"

"…nothing. I was excited all day so I probably drifted off once I got in bed."

There was something about her tone that convinced him she was not telling the truth, and it bothered him.

"How is Daisy?" she asked quickly, changing the subject at once."

"She just left for home," he answered, a smile coming to his face. "But she'll be coming back tomorrow, for the party."

"That's wonderful," came the response, sounding cheerful though there was a hint of depression in her voice.

"You'll come, won't you? I need you to sing, and I miss your company," he said truthfully, gripping the phone anxiously for her answer.

"Of course I'll be there. The usual time, right?"

"Yes…Evelyn?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you say goodbye to us before you left? I was wondering where you were."

"Oh, well you were with Daisy…you both looked so happy together…I didn't want to interrupt, so Nick, Desiree, and I left."

He listened to every syllable she pronounced, how her voice softened at the end of the sentence, almost wistful. "I wish you would've stayed."

"There was no reason for me to stay."

He winced. Her words were true and gentle, but they cut through him like a knife. "Still…"

"Jay, I hate to cut this message short, but I'm still very tired. We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"…right. Sorry. Good night, Eve."

"…good night, Jay."

His eyes widened as he listened to her, hearing her voice strain and hitch upon saying his name. "Eve-!" The other line clicked and went dead, leaving him alone in silence as he struggled to realize what was going on. She seemed so strangely detached at points, especially when he mentioned Daisy. Just now when they were saying their goodbyes, he could've sworn…but that was impossible, right?... Still, he could have sworn that she was going cry.

**~JG~**

Nick watched as Evelyn pinned her hair atop her head calmly, frowning as a thick, loose curl continued to slip out of its hold and sit on her collarbone. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Nick, you've been asking me that since I woke up this morning," Evelyn commented, giving him a coy look. "What, you think I've turned into a vampire or something?"

"Or something," he shrugged.

"Oh, forget it," she muttered in frustration at her hair, leaving the stray curl alone. "I give up," she sighed. "Look, Nick, I appreciate your concern, but don't worry about me." She winked at him with a grin. "Worry about Desiree and your future in-laws."

"They are _not_ my in-laws!" he huffed.

"Not _yet_," she giggled. She glanced down at the skirt of her dress, concerned at how the delicate fabric swished around her ankles. "I just hope I don't tear this dress."

"Hey, you look amazing, you know that, right?" he asked, accepting a hug from the girl.

"Thanks, Nick. Let's go, or we'll be late."

Offering his arm, Nick led Evelyn out of the house and down the path towards the back of Gatsby's mansion. The servants knew them well enough that they simply let them through with a nod of their heads. Gatsby's party was filled with even more glamour and madness, and double the amount of guests it seemed. Squeezing their way through the masses, they headed for the balcony, looking out over the people in search of their host.

"Nick! Eve!"

Turning around, they faced Desiree and Jordan as they walked towards them, dressed to kill and looking stunning.

"Looks like you took the back way," Jordan noted, jutting her chin towards the way they had entered.

"Yes, Jay lets us pass through there, it's closer and easier," Nick agreed. He beamed upon seeing Desiree, wearing a blue-green gown with slit sleeves, exposing her long, pale arms. "Hello gorgeous!"

"Hey, handsome," she blushed, accepting a chaste kiss on the lips.

Jordan smirked at this as she and Evelyn exchanged amused glances. "Did you both come in together?" Evelyn asked her.

"We did, but we also came with the Buchanans," the other woman informed her. "They met up with Gatsby at the entrance and-"

"Nicky! Darling!" came the delighted coo of Daisy's airy voice. All four of them turned their heads and saw Daisy trotting daintily towards them, decked in shimmering diamonds, pearls, and silver. "Hello, my dearest one!" she giggled, kissing Nick's cheek. She then turned and squealed upon seeing Evelyn, embracing the girl. "You look lovely," she stated.

"Not as lovely as you," Evelyn smiled back as she spoke the truth, a part of her heart crumbling away. "You're breath-taking." It was hard to not like Daisy, especially when they barely knew each other, and she had done nothing wrong. But with each passing moment that she looked at the woman, Evelyn felt like the dirt-stained farm girl she was, caught looking foolish in someone else's dresses.

"Well! Looks like we finally found ya, Nick," Tom's booming voice broke through, making them all jump out of their skins. He stomped over, ready to scold Daisy when his eyes fell on Evelyn. "…well. Look at you," he noted, nodding his head in approval. "Not bad."

"Hmm," she mumbled with a glare, turning her back towards him when she felt goose bumps arise from the sound of another voice.

"Nick, old sport! Glad to see you made-!" Gatsby stopped dead in his tracks, his smile fading as he noticed a slender figure with her exposed back turned to him. Slowly, the girl turned her face and peeked at him over her naked shoulder. Gatsby felt his breath hitch for a second, his eyes widening and his jaw starting to drop. Evelyn wore what appeared to be liquid gold that draped itself over her chest and legs, the fabric flowing and fluttering as she made even the slightest movements. Small pearls were peppered at the high neckline of the gown, the color of the dress going from dark to light as it began from her neck to her ankles. Her coppery auburn hair had been tactfully placed on her head in a bun, though a thick tendril remained loose, curling over her collarbone. Her green eyes watched him with uncertainty, darting away from his face as she began to feel uncomfortable from his stare.

"I…I'm sorry," he said, snapping out of his trance as he realized that everyone was gawking at him. "I…don't know what came over me."

"Oh, look! The band's starting up," Daisy cried, pointing at the musicians as they gathered together and began warming up. "Let's go dancing!"

"I'll pass," Jordan waved it off, snatching a drink from one of the servers. "I prefer to watch."

"Well, could we go, Nick?" Desiree pleaded, grabbing at his arm.

"I don't see why not," he chuckled, leading her away.

"I better go," Evelyn muttered, sneaking off quickly to the bandstand.

Gatsby reached for her, opening his mouth to plead for her to stay, but Daisy took his hand in hers, mistaking it for herself. "Oh, Tom, will you dance?"

"Certainly not," he huffed. His eye fell upon a rather impressive young model, who met his gaze and gave a coy smile in return. "I'll find some other form of entertainment."

"Oh, here, take my little gold pen," she smirked, slipping it into his coat pocket. "In case you need to take down any numbers."

He grunted, giving Gatsby a look before stalking off after his prey.

Taking his hands in hers, Daisy smiled sweetly at Gatsby. "Shall we?"

He smiled at her, offering his arm and leading her down into the crowd, where the people swayed in time with the soft music.

"Is this is entirely from your own imagination?" she asked, glancing around the place in wonder.

"Do you like it?" he replied, suddenly recognizing the tune that was being played.

"It's marvelous," she said, locking her eyes with his.

"_I've seen the world, _

_Done it all,_

_Had my cake now._

_Diamonds, brilliant,_

_And Bel Air now…"_

"What a beautiful voice," Daisy mused, lifting her head to see who it was. Her jaw dropped upon seeing Evelyn standing before the audience, singing to them. "Oh, Jay! I had no idea she really could sing! She mentioned it but I never heard her. Oh, isn't she just a darling?!"

His eyes were glued to Evelyn as Daisy rested her head upon his shoulder, the words tugging at his heart. He could see the torment in Evelyn's eyes as she struggled to maintain her dignity and hold back emotions that she fought from within.

"_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?"_

There were those words again – they weren't asking this time, they were begging.

"_Will you still love me when I've got nothing but my aching soul?"_

Why did he feel the need to respond to this message, to go to her now?

"_I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will…"_

"Jay, are you all right?" Daisy's voice fluttered in his ear, dragging his attention back to her.

"Yes…yes, I'm alright, dear," he whispered, fighting to ignore the music.

"Let's go for a stroll, Jay," she pleaded, blinking her doe-like eyes at him.

Placing his hand on her back, he led her through the crowd, only stopping to tap Nick on the shoulder. "We'll be out for just a moment, old sport," he told him.

"You'll call us, won't you?" Daisy asked him and Desiree. "If there's a fire, flood, or some act of God?"

Nick chuckled and nodded, watching them sneak away. His smile soon vanished as he heard Evelyn continue the song that everyone craved to hear since she had sung it two nights before. He knew who she was talking to…but would he ever respond?

**~JG~**

She stood there, dazzling in the moonlight under the tree, Nick's house just down the path. She was waiting for _him_, of all people, after all this time…

He met her there, right under the moonlight, stars, and treetops, wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her. She let him kiss her, limp under his touch, like the doll that she was. He traced lines of kisses over her cheek, down to her neck.

"I wish we could just run away," she whispered, looking up desperately at the night sky.

He stopped, stunned that she could even consider such an idea. "Run away?" he asked quietly. "From all this? No, Daisy, no…don't you see? I'm going to make things just the way they were. It'll be just you…" He caressed her cheek with his hand, his thumb running lightly over her lips. "…and me." He gazed into her eyes, curling his free hand over hers. "All you have to do…Daisy, all you have to do is tell Tom…you never loved him."

Fear filled her eyes, but she quickly covered it up by glancing away. "Jay…"

Footsteps behind them made the couple whip around to see who was intruding. They relaxed upon seeing Nick and Desiree walking towards them.

"Hello, Nicky," Daisy said sadly. "We're having a row."

"I'm afraid we're here to cut it short," Desiree informed them.

"Tom's been looking around and asking for you," Nick added, catching how Gatsby's brows furrowed in disapproval at this.

"Mr. Gatsby, sir," Herzog spoke from behind, startling everyone. "I'm afraid one of your guests is becoming… emotional, sir."

Gatsby bit back a grimace, forcing on a smile to the others. "Shall we return?"

Together, the unusual crew trudged up the hill to the gate of the backyard when a slow, sad melody floated in the air.

"_Ever since I was a child,_

_I've turned it over in my mind._

_I sang by the piano,_

_Tore my yellow dress and…_

_Cried and cried and cried…"_

"Oh, how sad and lovely," Daisy sighed, seeing Evelyn singing into the microphone. Taking Gatsby's hand, she tugged him to the dance floor once more. "Dance with me, Jay. Dance with me…"

He obliged, despite Herzog's protests and a dirty look from Desiree which went unnoticed. He felt her hand in his, slender, smooth, small…but it didn't make goose bumps rise the way it used it. Daisy spun around and placed her hands on his shoulders, resting her head against his chest. Gatsby began to look down at her face when Evelyn's song suddenly caught his attention once more.

"_On this champagne-drunken home,_

_Against the current of gold,_

_Everybody see I love him…_

_Cause it's the feeling that you get_

_When the afternoon is set,_

_On the bridge into the city…"_

He felt his blood race through his veins when he heard her sing 'everybody see I love him'. He didn't understand it, it wasn't as if she was directing it to him… _"Or is she?"_ Daring himself, he raised his eyes, and found himself staring into her brilliant green orbs. Why did he feel such agony as she seemed to grip her heart, the words spilling from her lips to his ears?

"_'Cause you're a hard soul to save_

_With an ocean in the way,_

_But I'll get around it._

_I'll get around it…_

_'Cause you're a hard soul to save_

_With an ocean in the way,_

_But I'll get around it…!"_

"Nick!" Tom called, startling Nick and Desiree as they turned to face him. "Have either of you found Daisy yet?"

"Mr. Gatsby just asked her for another dance," Desiree said smoothly, checking her nails.

"Hmph," he grunted. "What's this guy do, anyway?"

"He owns some drugstores," Nick shrugged.

Tom barked out a harsh laugh, snickering at the answer. "Please, Nick. Look at all this. He's a bootlegger. I bet my life on it. I've got a detective looking up the dirt on him." He ignored Nick's disapproving frown as he glanced towards the stage, seeing Evelyn pour out so much emotion into a song. "Mmh…guess I was wrong about your little friend, Nick. She's not half bad."

"She's amazing, thank you," Desiree sniffed. "Too bad Broadway won't take her with open arms." She caught Nick pretending to cough, hiding a smirk as Tom snarled at her for twisting his words.

Gritting his teeth so that he might not snap a retort back at the girl. Instead, he watched Evelyn perform. He would never admit it, but there was something fascinating about her as she sang…

"_Now there's green light in my eyes_

_And my lover on my mind,_

_And I sing from the piano,_

_Tear my yellow dress and – _

_Cry and cry and cry, yeah,_

_Over the love of you!"_

Gatsby's eyes remained on her as she sang out, her voice suddenly rich and powerful as she seemed to mournfully cry out the message in the music. As she mentioned 'the green light', the settling fog on the water seemed to suddenly die as the light from Daisy's dock flashed and cast its glow upon her countenance.

"_Cry and cry and cry, yeah,_

_Over the love of you!_

_I can see the green light - _

_I can see it in your eyes!_

_Cry and cry and cry…!"_

Evelyn was a siren now, screaming her melodic song to any and all who would hear her as she extended her arms to the crowds. Gatsby was practically a statue amongst the frantically moving masses and they swayed and spun in time with the rhythm. Those words she sang – there was no doubt now – they were aimed at him.

"I can see the green light,

I can see it in your eyes!"

With one arm extended, she her palm facing the night sky though her fingers were loosely curled, he could make out her forefinger was pointing at him, though it really could have just been a dramatic pose to end the song. She kept her eyes closed, and even with all this distance between them, he could make out a small, shimmering shape slowly streaking down her face.

As suddenly as the music had stopped, the air was filled with resounding applause and cheering as the guests showed their amazement and approval, demanding more. Graciously, she curtsied modestly, bowing her head at the crowd before motioning to the band.

"She really is incredible," Daisy noted, clapping with the others in glee. "Oh, I got chills just now, didn't you?!"

"Yes," he whispered, barely nodding his head as he stared.

"Well, Mr. Gatsby!" Tom shouted, stepping through the masses and arriving at his side. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal my wife back, but I do commend you on the entertainment. Tell me, just how did you get Evelyn to sing for this…little party?"

"I offered her a job," he replied, his eyes becoming steely cold blue as he glared at the man, though he wore a polite smile. "I have an eye for talent."

"Hmm," Tom muttered.

"Mr. Gatsby, sir," Herzog intruded, quickly whispering something in his ear.

Biting his tongue in frustration, Gatsby nodded at the servant, giving Tom and Daisy and apologetic smile. "Do forgive me, I'm afraid I have to address some small issues, but enjoy yourselves." With that he took off after Herzog, vanishing within moments.

"Let's go, Daisy," Tom said gruffly, placing his large hand on her back. "We're going home."

"Oh, very well," she huffed. Turning, she saw Nick and Desiree standing nearby and ran to them. "Good night, Nicky," she said, kissing his cheek. "We're off to find Jordan. Coming, Desiree?"

"Nick said he would take me home," she replied, kissing Daisy's cheek. "But thank you. Good night Daisy, Tom."

Nick waited until the Buchanans were gone before turning to his darling girl and raising an eyebrow. "I never said I'd-"

"I know, I'm calling my chauffer to pick me up at the end of the evening, and Evelyn, too," she informed him. "I think she'll need a break after all this, so I want her to come home with me for a day or two if that's all right."

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he embraced her. "That's a great idea, Des. Thank you."

**~JG~**

It was nearly three hours later when the party had cleared out, the mansion and its lands covered in a fine mess of confetti, champagne glasses, lost shoes, and neckties. Surveying the damage, Nick, Desiree, and Evelyn sipped their drinks as they stood by the pool. Gatsby had asked them to stay just a little while longer, and it irritated Desiree only because she had her chauffer waiting nearly an hour by now.

"She didn't like it," was the first thing he said when he joined them outside.

"Who? Daisy?" Nick asked. "I'm sure she-"

"She just doesn't understand," he shook his head. "I've gotten all these things for her, all of these marvelous things!...and she wants to run away!"

Evelyn sipped her water quietly, gazing out at the bay, the green light mocking her as it continued to blink. Desiree frowned, tossing her hair over her shoulder in frustration.

"But I'm going to make sure things are the way they were," Gatsby insisted. "She just has to tell Tom she never loved him."

The trio gawked at him, unable to believe what he'd said. "…I wouldn't ask too much of her," Nick warned him, but Gatsby stubbornly shook his head. "Jay," he pleaded. "You _can't_ repeat the past."

At this, Gatsby faced the young man, raising an eyebrow at him, almost challengingly. "Can't repeat the past?" he asked.

"No," Nick shook his head.

Leaning forward with a determined look gleaming in his eyes, he smiled and whispered, "But of course you can. Of _course_ you can!" Turning his gaze towards the sky, he explained, "Ever since I was a boy, I knew my life had to be so much more than… than what it was."

Evelyn absorbed his words, her brows furrowing. He made it seem as if he wasn't always of this high privilege, that there was more to him than he would let on.

"My life… my life has got to be like this…" He used his index finger to create a diagonal line rising from the bottom to the top, as if it were a shooting star. "It's got to keep going on. When I met Daisy…I didn't think I was capable of loving her at first, I was afraid to. But it was so hard not to, old sport. I sort of felt married to her…that's why I'm doing all this. I've got to win her back."

Evelyn could take no more. Setting her glass down, she began to walk quickly past them when she felt something snag at the hem of her dress. Angry, she tugged upon seeing a point in the iron railing that surrounded the pool, already tearing a hole into the delicate fabric. With a bit of her lip and a fierce flick of her wrist, she tore the skirt of the golden gown, the tear stretching until it revealed her lower calf.

"Evelyn?!" Gatsby cried, rushing after her.

"Eve!" Nick shouted. "Wait!"

"Please excuse me, I don't feel well," she said rapidly, feeling her face burn as she hurried for the gate. She resisted upon the feeling of Gatsby's hand, but he would not let her go. "Please, I just want to go back and-"

"Evelyn, please," Gatsby pleaded, trying to look into her eyes as she averted her gaze from him. "You…you tore your dress. I'll get you a new one-"

"No!" she said fiercely, startling both males. Taking a shaky breath, she gave them an apologetic smile. "No, thank you… I'm fine. I don't need anything. Now, please… let me go. I'm just tired." As she started to pull away, she froze as he took her hand and a pressed a kiss to it. Her heart stung as she finally dared to look him in the eye. "Good night, Jay… and please don't do that anymore. I'm just a poor farm girl, after all."

He stood there dumbfounded, giving her enough time to swiftly slip her hand out of his grasp and take off. Her words felt like a bullet shooting through his chest. "…I don't understand-OW!" He winced as Desiree stomped rudely on his foot, her heel unkind to his toes. "Desiree, what-?!"

"How dare you put her through this, you idiot!" she snapped. "Stop using her like that! Until you realize your true feelings for her, you great oaf, stop breaking her heart!" Casting an exasperated look to her astounded beau, she said, "I'll call you later, Nick." Without another word, she ran after Evelyn.

Gatsby started as well but Nick grabbed his arm. "You'd best leave them for now," he encouraged him. "Desiree's taking Eve to her home for the night." Seeing the man's face, torn by confusion and hurt, he asked, "Why don't you tell Evelyn how you really feel?"

He faced Nick, despair and confusion in his eyes. "She wasn't part of the plan, old sport…I didn't count on this…"

"But do you love Evelyn?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, curling them in frustration. "…I want to…I think I do… but I love Daisy."

"Plans change, Jay," Nick advised him. "Make your intentions clear, and be true to yourself."

He looked at Nick, seeing the honesty and innocence in his face. "It's just… after all I've been through… after all I've done for Daisy… and you're telling me to give up?"

"No," Nick shook his head. "I'm trying to warn you, Jay. She's married to Tom, she has a daughter. She's easily swayed and I wouldn't expect too much of her."

"I know Daisy will make the right choice," he insisted stubbornly.

"But will you?"

Gatsby's brows furrowed as he watched Nick walk away, down the path and back to his private, miniscule bungalow hidden in the trees and darkness. Could it be possible that all this was for naught? He remembered how he felt whenever he was with either woman, the golden days in which he spent with Daisy as a soldier before he was shipped off to Europe, then their reunion and their time spent now… but then there was Evelyn, who made him feel more alive and comfortable than he could ever remember feeling…

Turning his gaze to the blinking green light on Daisy's dock across the bay, reminding him of why he was there. He had to see if she really loved him… Walking back towards the house, he remained determined to see Daisy.

…so why did it feel like there was a piece of him that died at the realization that he would not be able to see Evelyn the same way again…?

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you to all my lovelies out there ^_^ I really do appreciate every single review, so I hope you all enjoyed this one. Please don't kill me or Jay, I promise he'll "see the light" ;) Bad pun, I know. Anyways, I own nothing excepts OCs and typos, and please don't forget to let me know what you think of it! G'night everyone!


	10. The Pleas

_Chapter Ten – The Pleas_

The days turned into weeks as Nick, Desiree, and Evelyn watched the parties finally come to a close, the mansion becoming still and dark, with only a lone car that would come almost every other day as reporters and journalists lurked outside. Evelyn tried to keep her mind of Gatsby and Daisy, doing everything she possibly could to distract herself. She practically lived half of the time at Desiree's house (as did Nick), the family welcoming them with open arms. Evelyn gave up the idea of ever singing again in public, with the only exception being church. She went often, trusting that God would listen to her pleas for peace of mind and serenity, to take away her worries, and possibly her thoughts of Jay Gatsby, though the later never did subside, especially in her dreams.

"He's an absolute idiot," Desiree professed every time. "He's in love with a memory, an idea…something that was, and isn't. He doesn't love Daisy."

"Yes, he does," Evelyn would state before quickly changing the subject.

Having nothing better to do and not wishing to stay at home with only Gatsby's mansion and the green light across the bay to stare at, she went with Nick into the city and stayed at the library for hours. By the third day of her desperate attempt for solitude, a kindly librarian asked if she would like a small part-time job, which she readily accepted. It made the time go by easier, and she engrossed herself in her work, as well as the plots and characters in each book she selected.

Unfortunately, Gatsby called at least every day to speak with Nick, asking him each time if Evelyn was around. And every time, seeing his friend's face and how fiercely she shook her head, Nick would make an excuse.

"He really wanted to talk with you," he told her each time.

"I don't want to talk to him," she lied. "It's better this way."

There were gifts that came, small and large, simple and extravagant, all for Evelyn. All of them were either given away to those less fortunate at the church, or tossed in the trash. She wanted nothing to do with him, not while he was with Daisy Buchanan.

There was one perk (aside from her small job and time spent with the Lancaster family) that brightened her days. Every so often, she would stop by the Valley of Ashes and meet with George Wilson, chatting about everything and nothing, as if he was a close friend she had always known.

"You know, I'm sure my mother would love to meet you," she laughed one day as he told her of his childhood back West. "You remind me of my father in many ways, and I know she would appreciate a good laugh and someone to talk to."

"Why? Your step-dad ain't friendly?" he asked, handing her a soda.

She accepted and shook her head. "Not necessarily…I know she cares about him, and she needs someone to care for her…but I know she doesn't love him the way she loved my father."

"Hey, love ain't easy," he confirmed. She grimaced at this, but he didn't catch it. "Take it from me. I can't seem to get across to Myrtle. She's been acting real strange lately…she keeps visitin' her sister in the city."

Evelyn was certain that Myrtle was most certainly _not_ visiting her sister, but she kept that to herself. It wasn't her place to get involved in others business.

"Say, how's Mr. Gatsby doing?" he asked, he words cutting through her like a knife.

"Oh, I guess he's doing all right," she shrugged. She looked at the driver who had started reading a newspaper instead of checking to see if the car was filled and ready with gas. What she wouldn't give for a moment to escape having to talk about the man who took her heart and wouldn't return her affections because of his stubbornness…

"I gotta tell ya," he beamed. "Thanks to him, I've got a new car, and he's referred me to his fancy, rich friends. Business couldn't be better!"

"I'm glad for you, George," she said truthfully, patting his shoulder.

"Miss?" the cab driver called, motioning towards the vehicle.

"Well, I'll catch up with you later," she said, embracing the man. He blushed, muttering for her to take care of herself before waving goodbye.

Sitting in the backseat, Evelyn watched as George Wilson became smaller and smaller, the Valley of Ashes becoming further away with each mile they drove back to West Egg. Her eyes moved skyward, seeing how the clouds clustered in grey misery, a soft rumble shaking the air. She bit her lip anxiously, hoping that the driver would make it to the cottage before it started raining.

Gatsby's mansion towers stood erect in the distance, causing her to sigh and look away. She couldn't wait until the trees covered her view of the house so that she wouldn't have to be reminded of him. He haunted her in her dreams, causing her to loath sleep at all times.

Arriving at the bungalow, she paid the driver and thanked him before turning away and hurrying to the mailbox. The sound of the cab's tires became faint as she opened the little hatch and took out a single envelope with her name on it. She instantly recognized the print as her mother's, bringing a smile to her lips. She sorely missed her mother, and sent most of the money she made in the city back to her in hopes of helping the family in some form. Slipping the tip of her finger under the flap, she ripped the paper apart and pulled out a slip with her mother's cursive all over the inside. Ignoring the rumble of thunder overhead, she began to read the letter, only to find its contents shocking and depressing.

_My dearest daughter,_

_I'm afraid I have terrible news. Your stepfather has passed away. The doctor says it was his smoking habits that killed him, his lungs couldn't take it anymore. By the time you have received this letter, I'm afraid he will have already been buried. It's thanks to you that I have some money left, along with your father's savings, that I'll be able to make it by for a few months. I'm afraid I won't be able to keep the farm with what we have saved. I'm going to have to start selling some items and livestock soon._

_Evelyn, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this…I was so upset, I didn't want to call you or interrupt your city life…but please contact me, darling. Perhaps I can sell the farm and move with you to the city, or if you have a better idea, let me know as soon as you can. Please don't be disheartened by this news…know that I'm all right and I love you…as did Jeremiah._

_Your devoted mother,_

_Rebecca Berns-Keller_

Lightning crackled overhead as the sky darkened, rain pelting down on her frame as it splattered over the letter. Her body shook as she re-read the contents of the paper, unable to believe what she was seeing. All this time she was here living out her life, her mother was suffering and alone. Her stepfather was dead…and there was nothing she could do about it.

A sob was caught in her throat as she felt to her knees, holding her head in her hands as she wept, getting soaked to the bone as the sky continued to throw down the unforgiving raindrops. Everything was going wrong…Gatsby and Daisy…her strong, uncontrollable feelings for him, and now this…

She was sopping wet and numb when a pair of arms gathered her up and carried her out of the rain. She as somewhere between sleep and consciousness as she felt her body become engulfed in soft warmth, the smell of chamomile and freshly baked biscuits causing her body to breathe deeply. It was so cozy all of a sudden, and all she wanted to do was curl up and forget the misfortunes that seemed to follow her around…

"Mr. Carraway is on his way over, sir."

"Thank you, Herzog. Let him in and show him the way here when he arrives, won't you?"

"Of course."

The footsteps faded, leaving her in silence. Though her body wanted to rest, her mind was now fully awake, compelling her to open her eyes and see what was happening. With a soft moan, she forced her eyelids open and was startled to find herself in a dimly lit room, covered by a soft, plush comforter. On the nightstand beside the table was a tray of tea, biscuits, and fruit. In the dark, through a flicker of lightning, she could see the silhouette of a figure sitting on a chair placed by the bedside. She gasped, edging away when the figure reached out and gently grasped her hand.

"Eve, it's me," the soothing voice spoke, stunning her in place. Getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed his free hand over hers and moved his head into the light.

"Jay," she breathed, staring into his blue eyes.

"You scared me, you know," he confessed with a chuckle, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was on the phone and I saw you through the window…I ran out as quickly as I could and found you drenched, crying yourself into unconsciousness. You had this in your hands…" He reached for the nightstand, selecting a crumpled, moist paper. The ink bled and dripped down the sheet, making the message impossible to read. "What happened?" he asked quietly, offering her the parchment.

She heaved a sigh, shaking her head as she took it back. "…my mother wrote that letter to let me know that my…" She inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a moment as she let the news sink in again. "…my stepfather passed away recently."

His eyes widened at this, his grip on her hands tightening just a smidge. "Evelyn…I'm so sorry…"

She smiled sadly at him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "…I need to figure out what to do about my mother now. I don't know whether she should come to the city or if I should go back and work things out with her as best as I can."

"Would you come back?" he asked suddenly, his eyes fixed on her face.

She gave a careless laugh, shaking her head. "Would it matter? The only people who might miss me are Desiree and Nick-"

"_I _would miss you," he said firmly, taking hold of her chin and gently turning her face towards him. He couldn't hold back his smile as he saw blush appear on her cheeks. He'd missed that…he missed everything about her. "I've already been missing you…I call you-erm, that is, I call your house every day."

"Hmm," she murmured. "I wish you wouldn't." Drawing her face away from his hand and pulling her hand out of his grasp, she pushed the covers aside and stepped out.

"What're you doing?" he asked, his brows knitting together is disapproval and confusion.

"I'm going home."

"I've already called Nick-"

"I'm getting a head start."

"Now hold on a moment!" he demanded, grabbing her arm.

She spun around to face him, her face twisted into a frown. "Please let go of me, Mr. Gatsby."

"What is with you calling me that?!" he snapped, frustrated at her sudden change of attitude. "Why are you doing this-?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" she yelled, unable to hold her tongue. He gawked at her, seeing the hurt in her glistening green eyes. "I'm doing what's best for you and for me. Aren't you happy with Daisy?"

He blinked, stunned by her words. He enjoyed his time with Daisy, whenever she was able to come over for their little rendezvouses, but felt as if the time spent with her was as if he were in a trance. He had no feeling of satisfaction, no memory contented bliss… "Of…of course I'm happy with Daisy," he stammered, realizing that he had to give an answer. Really, what other response could he give? After all this time, working so hard to finally find Daisy and win her back, he couldn't just say that he wasn't happy…couldn't he?

"Then be happy with her and stop looking for me," she said firmly, her words stinging with resentment.

"No, wait! Evelyn, please!" he pleaded, taking hold of her shoulders and pulling her towards him. Looking her in the eyes, he whispered sincerely to her, "You can't ask me to do that…I…I can't imagine life without you." She shook her head at his words, biting back a sob. "No, please, listen to me! It's the truth…I don't know how I was able to live before I met you-"

"Stop it, please, stop it!" she wept, yanking her arms from his hold. "Leave me alone and stop twisting my heart!" Bursting forth like a madwoman, she left him behind as she ran blindly, flying down a flight of stairs before recognizing the hallway and hurrying to the exit.

"Hello, Herzog. I'm here for Evelyn," she could hear Nick say at the door.

"She's right-" Herzog began, only to jump back as she collided into Nick. "…here."

Nick nearly toppled over as Evelyn grabbed onto him for support. "Eve! What-?!"

"Hurry, Nick," she begged, tugging him back towards the old Dodge parked at the front of the mansion. "Please, I want to go home. Before he comes down."

"Eve, you're starting to worry me," Nick frowned, nodding his thanks to Herzog before guiding her back through the rain under his umbrella. Helping her inside, he slipped in beside her and started the engine, glancing towards the house one last time before driving away. "Evelyn, what happened in there? I got a call from Jay saying he found you outside and-"

"I promise, I'll tell you later," she said quietly, startling him. "Just…keep driving."

Peeking through the rearview mirror, Nick dared to try and look back at the house, but all he could see were mournful, grey streaks sliding down upon the back window. "All right… let's go home."

**~JG~**

After hearing Evelyn's story (after he wrapped her up in a blanket and offered her tea), he suggested that perhaps she ought to call her mother and see how things were going. "Talk things out with her, she might be able to give you some advice." Of course, he wasn't simply talking about moving or returning to Kansas, but he kept his lips sealed.

"Maybe I will," she agreed, her eyes dim and dull as she offered him a thin smile.

So it as the next morning that she stayed home, sleeping in as Nick left for work once more, and she eventually rolled out of bed and called her mother.

"Tell about this Gatsby you keep mentioning in your letters," her mother asked once they had said they hellos and shared what had happened with Jeremiah.

Her throat clenched and she felt her mouth go dry at the mention of Gatsby. "…I don't want to talk about him, Mom."

"…you're in love with him, aren't you?" Rebecca said knowingly from the other side. "Don't you start denying it, young lady. What's going on? He doesn't return the feelings?"

"Oh, I don't know or care anymore!" she growled, feeling the familiar sting of tears behind her eyes as she clenched her hand into her hair.

"Darling, you need to come to grips with how you feel, confront him, and ask him about it. Otherwise, neither one of you will be at peace. If you need to come back, then come back. A visit home may do you some good."

After a few more words, they hung up, leaving her to sit on the sofa and mull over what they had spoken about. What to do…? Arising to her feet, she moved to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and measuring cups. Baking tended to soothe her when she was distressed, and now seemed like the perfect time to keep her mind occupied.

Spooning the cupcake batter into the molds, she yelped when the phone rang, giving a breath of relief as she calmed herself. Frowning, she picked up the phone, uncertain of who to expect. "Hello?"

"Hmm, Evelyn, is it?" a gruff voice came from the other line.

She raised an eyebrow at the voice, deducing who it was. "Mr. Buchanan?"

"It's Tom to you," she heard him chuckle. "I don't suppose Nick's home?"

"He's at work in the city, I'm afraid," she answered, continuing to place the mix into the pan before sliding it into the oven. "I can give you his number if you need it-"

"I've got it, but thank you all the same…look here, Evelyn, I never did compliment you that night we were at Gatsby's."

"Compliment me on what?" she asked, beginning to set the soiled materials into the sink.

"Why, you're singing of course. You're rather good."

"Well, thank you," she said flatly.

"Haven't been singing lately, though, have you? I mean, with Gatsby not having any more parties?"

"I work at a library now."

"What? You don't like singing for other people?"

Her brows furrowed in disapproval at his questions as she wiped the counters clean, her fingers tightly clenching the cloth. "I don't like singing anymore. And I'm terrible at it."

"What're you talking about? You're-"

"Please call Nick at the office number. Sorry I couldn't be of more help to you, Mr. Buchanan. Good day." Without another word, she slammed the phone back into its cradle, fuming at Tom's scalding comments. Scrubbing away at the counters, she felt a hot tear slip down her cheek. "I don't think I can do this anymore…"

Minutes later when the cupcakes were ready, she changed into her plain brown frock, laced up her work boots, and placed her best pastries into a wicker basket. Deftly braiding her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. "Let's get this over with." Slipping the basket onto her arm, she stepped out of the cottage and made her way down the path towards the back of Gatsby's mansion, hoping that he would be alone and in a good mood. She could feel her face and neck burn at the memory of how she had run away from him the day before. Raising her head high, she decided to swallow her pride (or what little was left of it), and opened the gate. There was no one out by the pool, but this was unsurprising. After Gatsby's last party, there were no more guests, and many of the servants had been dismissed. Cautiously, she walked up the steps of the outdoors staircase and landed on the balcony when she froze in place.

There, just inside the closed bay doors, their lips touching behind the translucent curtains, were Gatsby and Daisy. She watched them, paralyzed in place as she felt a knife run through her heart. Without another word, she spun around, the basket crashing the floor, the destroyed treats forgotten. Running as fast as she could, she slammed the door of the cottage and scrambled for her room, in search of pencil and paper.

It would end now.

**~JG~**

Gatsby watched Daisy leave in her car once more, as he always did when she left, but he felt hollow within. Turning away, he walked through his barren home, recalling each caress, each kiss, each whisper shared with Daisy…They were fleeting moments, but they were his now…but they didn't make him smile.

Evelyn's words echoed in his mind, her pleas ringing in his ears. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped at his shirt, right over his heart. She wasn't part of the plan…but he couldn't go on like this, without her standing beside him, smiling at him…But he couldn't just give up on Daisy either. She had just promised him she would tell Tom…but he had to be with her. Frankly, he didn't know if he could do it alone.

"Sir?" Herzog began.

"Not now," he frowned, waving him off as he stepped outside. As his eyes began to move towards the dock, he caught something out of the corner of his vision that he knew didn't belong there. A wicker basket rocked on its side in the breeze, rich chocolate cupcakes spilled all over the floor, some of them crushed from the fall, their frosting smearing the floor like white, sugary blood. His eyes became wide with realization as he instantly recognized who had left them there.

The phone rang frantically in the house as he stepped forth and knelt down to inspect the damage. How long had these been here?

"Mr. Gatsby, sir, it's Mr. Carraway. He says it's urgent," Herzog said, stepping outside to find his employer. He, too, noted the desserts lying on the ground, his stomach twisting in a knot. "Oh no…"

Hopping to his feet, Gatsby ran back inside, scrambling to grab the phone "Hello?! Hello, Nick?!"

"Jay! She's gone!" Nick's voice came through from the line, just as frantic as Gatsby's.

"What do you mean, 'she's gone'?!" he demanded, his voice rising in panic.

"I just got here with Desiree and we found a note in Evelyn's room! It's completely cleaned out – she's returning to Kansas to be with her mother. She said something about New York not being the place for her and it would be better this way."

Flashes of Evelyn's face passed through his mind in a second, his heart pumping faster than ever before. "Do you have any idea where she could be…?"

"My guess is the train station, the very one in the valley of ashes where I picked her up the first day. I'll bet she bought a ticket, and if Des is right, the last train for today pulls out at 6 tonight!"

"But that's ten minutes from now!" Gatsby cried, catching sight of the grandfather clock next to the phone. "Herzog!" he shouted angrily. "Bring out the car at once! Nick, meet me at the train station. I'm going to stop her!" Slamming the phone violently back into its place, he ran for the door, his blood racing as his mind whirled in fear. If she left…he just didn't know if he would be able to go on living.

**~JG~**

"You sure about this?" Wilson asked, seeing how broken she looked, standing by the gas pump with her.

She gave him a weak smile, her eyes red from crying. "It's the best thing for me, George. I'm not even sure if coming out here was a great idea in the first place. I guess my stepfather was right…"

"Hey, you listen here, missy," he frowned, shaking a finger at her. She blinked, startled by his sudden change of attitude. He looked so very much like her father, scolding her for thinking about giving up on something she loved. "Don't you talk like that. You're a bright girl, and no matter whacha do, you'll do great at it. And I'm glad you came ta New York, 'cuz at least I got to know you a little." He heaved a sigh, running his greased stained fingers through his dark hair. She could already see streaks of silver lining his hair, showing that he was getting on in his years. "You gotta be optimistic…that's what kept me going for a while. If there's anybody who should be down on the dumps, it's me." He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before admitting in a low voice, "…I think Myrtle has a lover."

Her eyes widened at this, knowing that the cat was out of the bag now, but kept her lips sealed. It wasn't her place to mention anything to him, especially not now.

"I found some fancy dog collar in her bureau…she got a new dress, too. But I don't have that kind of money, and neither does her sister…I've gotta talk with her when she gets back."

"Oh George…" She went to him, throwing her arms around him as she embraced him tightly. "You deserve better."

"Maybe," he chuckled sadly. "But so do you." Returning the gesture, he patted her shoulder and nodded his head at the waiting train. "Your ride's here. You take care now, Evelyn. Send my regards to your ma."

"I will," she nodded, her lips forming a mournful smile as she pecked his cheek. "You've been so kind to me, George…I hope everything works out for you."

"Yeah, me too," he grinned back. "Take care of yourself."

"Good-bye…" With a meager wave, she turned and trudged back to the platform, her suitcases and purse at hand. Each step she took felt like she was walking on glass, making her wince as her eyes pricked with tears. _"No, that's enough," _she told herself firmly. _"I won't cry anymore…it's not worth it. There's no reason to cry." _

"Ticket, Miss?" asked the conductor as he strolled up and down, waiting for the last passengers to board.

She handed him the flimsy paper, watched him punch a hole in it, and hand her half of it back. "Best get on, we're about ready to pull out of the station," he informed her, tipping his hat as he began to walk back to his post.

She nodded dumbly, wanting to glance back and see if maybe – just maybe – someone would rush to her and beg her not to go. Frowning, she shook her head angrily. _"You've been reading too many romance novels,"_ she chided herself, gripping her belongings and stepping onto the train. _"No one's coming…and by the time they find out, it'll be too late…"_

"ALL ABOARD!" the conductor shouted, as the train whistle blew harshly.

She gripped the handle of the train's exterior, not wanting to enter just yet. Her heart teased at her mind, causing her to bite her lower lip in frustration. No one was coming, and even if they did, they wouldn't change her mind-

"EVELYN!"

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her name being shouted, her head whipping around to see who it was. The sight of the garish yellow car screeching to a halt made her stomach flop, her heart flutter with a hope that she wanted to quell. Hot on the trail was a familiar old Dodge, jerking suddenly as it stopped and its riders ran out. The train was already trudging away, puffing as it moved steadily from the platform.

"EVE!" Her emerald eyes locked with Gatsby's sapphire irises, a sob caught in her throat as she watched him, Nick, and Desiree trip and leap for the platform. "EVE! DON'T GO!" Gatsby cried, his voice twisted with anguish as he pleaded. "PLEASE! PLEASE STAY!"

The platform was gone, and so was the train…and she was flying through the air. She could hear the conductor shout obscenities of disbelief, she could hear Desiree scream for fear of her life, she could see the panic and horror in Nick's eyes as she leapt off of the train…and after what felt like eons, she felt Gatsby.

What Nick saw was unbelievable. He felt frozen as he watched his childhood friend leap off of the train's outer steps, her suitcases skidding onto the platform as she furiously thrust them off. For one brief moment, she appeared to be flying, floating in the air between the accelerating train and the platform…and just as suddenly, jarring him from this incredible sight, she collided with a disheveled figure, with his arms extended and ready to catch her as she fell onto the floor.

They landed in a great heap on the platform, the locomotive now several feet away and still moving as some of the passengers and passersby poked their heads out to see what all the commotion was about.

"Eve!" Desiree cried, falling to her knees beside the two. "Are you all right?! That was insane, what you just did! You could've been killed!"

Evelyn gasped as she struggled to catch her breath, her blood racing within her as she tried to lift her body up. Two arms stopped her from moving, causing her to freeze as she realized that Gatsby lay beneath her and was embracing her tightly.

"Please don't ever do that again," he breathed into her ear, causing goose bumps to rise on her skin. Sitting up, he took her face in his hands, his thumb wiping a stray tear away from her cheek. "Why did you do that?" he whispered, his hands trembling. "Why would you just leave like that…without saying anything?"

"Because I'm not needed, or wanted," she murmured, pushing the man away as she let Nick help her up.

"Please, Eve, don't ever try that again," Nick said, hugging her before letting Desiree attack her with her own embrace, as well as a few choice words. "Look, why don't we all go home and get some rest."

"I'll call my chauffer, Nick," Desiree informed him. "I'll have Evelyn stay at my place-"

"If it's all the same, I'd rather just go back to the cottage and sleep," she said lifelessly, throwing her braid over her shoulder as she walked down the cars. Gatsby watched her with confusion and hurt in his eyes when he sensed the Desiree was glaring at him.

"This is all your fault!" she snapped, poking him harshly in the ribs.

"What-?!" he started to argue back.

"I never should have agreed to help you get back with Daisy, much less tell Evelyn anything about it! Thanks to and _Mrs. Buchanan_," she hissed, rubbing in the fact she was still Tom's wife. "She's crying over something that can't happen because you're too damn stubborn to admit that you like her back, because you want a mirage, not a person!" Turning on her heel, she huffed and strode towards the cars, leaving the men baffled and stunned on the platform.

"…I'm sure she doesn't mean it," Nick reassured Gatsby, though he knew very well that Desiree meant every word she said. Heaving a sigh of relief, he admitted, "I'm just glad we got to Evelyn in time."

Gatsby nodded, feeling as though he had been slapped in the face. He'd nearly lost Evelyn, and he didn't want to lose her again…but Daisy was going to be his soon. He couldn't have them both, that much he knew…he wouldn't surrender Daisy so easily, but he knew that if he ever lost Evelyn like that again…he would surely be miserable for the rest of his days.

**~JG~**

Evelyn slept in for most of the next day, staying in bed and not daring to look out the window. She cursed herself for being so in love with her unattainable neighbor, for surrendering so easily when she could have just gone back. She was too ashamed to even call her mother and tell her what had happened. She was just grateful she hadn't bothered to call and thought it would be best to surprise her by suddenly returning…

Desiree had stayed for the night, sleeping in her room before tucking her in the next morning, patting her hair soothingly and leaving with Nick to get back to New York.

It was well past noon when the phone began ringing, causing her to grumble and mutter as she rolled out of bed. "I'll bet it's Nick or Des, checking to see if I'm still here," she sighed aloud as she stumbled to the kitchen. Grabbing the device, she placed it to her ear. "Don't worry, Nick, I haven't left town."

"Well, that's certainly a relief."

Her eyes widened as her cheeks reddened at the sound of Gatsby's voice on the other side. "O-Oh!...I…I didn't realize…"

"It's all right, Evelyn…" He paused for just a moment, as if measuring what to say next. "…I've just recently spoken with Nick."

"…oh."

"I…asked him a favor again…tomorrow, Daisy's inviting us to lunch at her house…I was hoping Nick would come for…support." He stopped, waiting to see what her reaction would be. "…Eve?"

"Yes?" she answered calmly, though she wanted to hang up the phone at that instant.

"You got quiet."

"I was listening to you."

"Ah…well, Nick, Desiree, and Jordan are going to be there tomorrow."

"Have a lovely time," she replied, ready to finish the conversation.

"Will you come, Eve?"

She stopped, her brows furrowing at his request. His voice had lowered to a whisper, hesitant but urgent, almost pleading for an answer. "…why should I? Nick's going to be there, and Daisy's telling Tom she wants you, right? Why do you need me there?"

"I can't do this alone."

"You're _not_ alone, Jay."

"I need you-!" he implored, stopping suddenly as he realized what he had confessed.

Her heart soared and fell to oblivion all at once, the corners of her mouth turning up though tears scarred her face. Shaking her head, she answered, "No, you don't, Jay Gatsby…"

"Please, Eve," he pleaded.

For a minute, then two, there was nothing but silence, each one listening to the sound of the other's breathing.

"…what time is Nick going over?"

* * *

**A/N:** I own nothing except the OCs, typos, and the madness that ensues. Thank you all for your reviews, I really appreciate them and they've helped me continue writing. I apologize for not having this up until now, but with Thanksgiving (happy belated Thanksgiving to you all, by the way), the last weeks of classes, and getting ready for Christmas, it's been crazy with me. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please let me know what you thought of it. Until next time! :)


	11. The Destruction

_Chapter Eleven – The Destruction_

Evelyn tugged at her curls anxiously, causing Nick to chuckle. "Stop pulling your hair like that, or you'll go bald."

"No, I won't," she rolled her eyes, though she cracked a smile at his comment. She was grateful that Nick was with her – he was usually able to put her at ease with just about anything, except for one person that came to mind…

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asked as the Buchanan mansion loomed in the distance.  
"Why not?" she shrugged carelessly. "He's a friend. I should be there to help him, right?"

Nick sighed, parking the car before getting out and helping her down. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Linking her arm with his, she felt a wave of dejavu overtake her as she entered the luxurious home and treaded the polished floors. A butler escorted them into a dining hall, and there they found a rather stiff and uncomfortable scene. The windows were wide open with a hot wind slowly sifting through the air of the room. Daisy sat on a chair with a delicate fan, moving wildly as she stared at the floor, her face pale, her eyes darting to and fro. Tom stood by the open window, watching everyone with cynical eyes. Jordan stretched out in her chair, sipping her brandy as she lazily cast her eyes towards them. Desiree leapt up daintily from her chair, floating over to the two newcomers and kissing them chastely on the cheek. "Glad you could come," she murmured, casting Evelyn a disapproving look. She immediately understood: _"Why are you supporting him when he keeps hurting you?!"_ She smiled back politely before heading for the table. Reaching for the chair she had her eyes on, another hand beat her to it.

"Allow me," Gatsby said softly, his eyes shining with gratitude upon seeing her. He couldn't help but secretly admire her, looking ethereal in a simple white frock with translucent sleeves, yellow flowers delicately growing across the skirt of the dress. His happiness dimmed as he saw her eyes dart away from his and silently accepted his help before sitting down and resting her chin upon her hand.

"It's so hot. What'll we do with ourselves?" Daisy cried suddenly, getting up and walking to the other side of the room for a cigarette. "And the day after that, and so on…?"

"I heard that the sun's getting hotter every year," Jordan commented. "Or is it colder…?"

"It's just so hot!" Daisy trembled, frantically trying to light her cigarette and dropping the lighter in the process. Gatsby caught it at once, swiftly lighting it for her, their eyes meeting. "…you always look so cool," she said suddenly, her tone attracting Tom's attention. "The man in the cool, beautiful suits…"

Evelyn could see the fear in Tom's eyes as it clicked in his mind what was going on. Striding forth, he slammed his glass onto the table, causing everyone to jump out of their skin. "Let's all go into town!" he boomed. "It was your idea, after all, Daisy. Don't you remember you mentioned it earlier?"

"I changed my mind, Tom, I _can_ do that," she snapped.

"Well, I say we should go to town and have a few drinks," he stated. "We'll share cars."

Nick, Evelyn, Desiree, and Jordan all exchanged uneasy glances. Getting up, they followed his instructions and shuffled outside. As they gathered outside by the cars, Tom and Gatsby stepped through the threshold and headed for the yellow car.

"Why don't we switch cars?" Tom suggested. "You can take my blue coup."

"I'll have to stop for fuel, I'm afraid," Gatsby replied coolly, checking his cufflinks.

Tom peered into the car, checking the gas gage. "Shouldn't be a problem. I'll take care of it."

"Des and I are going in my car," Jordan announced as the two females headed for her pristine vehicle.

"Why don't you ride with Tom, Nicky? And Evelyn can come with me and Jay," she suggested.

Gatsby glanced at Evelyn and noted how stiff she became. "I don't-"

"Let's go!" Daisy said, latching herself onto Evelyn's arm and dragging her away to the blue automobile. "Come on!"

Tom watched the three of them pile into the car, frowning at them as he slid into the yellow car. "I don't trust him."

"Why? He hasn't done anything to you," Nick raised an eyebrow as he entered and shut the vehicle door.

"He's wearing a pink suit," Tom growled, starting up the engine.

"It's not _that_ pink," Nick insisted.

"I don't trust idiots who wear any shade of pink," he stated stubbornly. Hitting the gas, his brows furrowed as they raced down the gravel road, the sound of another engine coming up behind them. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noted how Gatsby strove to catch up to them. He pressed the pedal completely down, causing them to shoot forward, losing the others.

"Take it easy!" Nick gasped as he grabbed onto anything for stability.

"We need gas," Tom grumbled, speeding out of East Egg and down the long road to the Valley of Ashes. They couldn't have arrived any sooner, to Nick's relief, as the car came to a screeching halt before Wilson's garage. "Wilson!" Tom boomed, seeing the owner just stand at a post, looking out blankly at the empty dirt road. "What's the matter with you, man? Do I have to do this myself?!"

Wilson gulped, taking uneasy steps towards the pump. "I'm not feeling so good, Mr. Buchanan."

"What? Got a cold?" he huffed.

Wilson shook his head, a grimace on his lips as he filled the car tank with gas. "Me 'n Myrtle are moving out west."

Nick watched as Tom's head jerked up, his eyes wide as the words struck him with full force. "…is…that what your wife wants?"

Wilson chuckled grimly. "Nah. But she's got a lover somewhere, and we need to get away from the city. Sure am grateful for that new car-"

"What new car?!" the other demanded, and Nick immediately panicked. Evelyn had told him of Gatsby's and Wilson's agreement and partnership, and he knew this would not sit well with Tom.

"Mr. Gatsby gave me one of his old cars…he's been helping me with business," Wilson informed him. "Speaking of which, isn't this his car?"

"Yes," Nick cut in before Tom could lie about anything. "We've switched cars for the day." As if to confirm this statement, Gatsby sped by with Daisy and Evelyn in Tom's car; Daisy waved gaily at them and in a moment, they were gone.

"Oh," nodded Wilson, pulling the nozzle out of the tank. "That'll be-"

"Keep the change!" Tom said hastily, thrusting the money into Wilson's hand before gunning the engine and taking off with a sudden burst of speed. Nick gripped the side of the car once more, staring at Tom with intense curiosity when it hit him: he was beginning to lose everything he considered important, and he was scrambling to get it back before it was too late. He gawked at him in sheer disbelief, finding him very much like a frantic, spoiled child that could not bear the idea of losing even a single toy that he did not play with. He found it pitiful and pathetic, though he understood his urgency.

Arriving at the bridge, Nick held his breath as he watched Tom and Gatsby exchange competitive glares, both of them vying to get ahead. Further behind them were Desiree and Jordan, observing them with concern and cool disinterest, respectively. Daisy continued to wave to them all, thinking it grand fun. She was oblivious to their emotions, giggling as she raised her hands into the air, as if on a roller coaster. Nick could see Evelyn sitting quietly on the far end of the car, her coppery curls fluttering and flapping in the wind as they zoomed into the city. She gazed out towards the other cars, the sky, anything except the people to her left.

Entering the crowded area, Tom led the way to a grand hotel, stomping out of the car and handing the keys to a valet before entering and demanding a room. "Take it easy," Nick cautioned him as they waited for the man to give them the keys.

"I'm taking it perfectly easy, thank you," he snapped.

"You all drive like maniacs," Desiree commented as she and Jordan slipped into the lobby.

"Can't be helped," Jordan shrugged carelessly.

"Wasn't that exciting?!" they heard Daisy squeal as she, Gatsby, and Evelyn joined them all.

"A real riot," Tom growled.

At last the man found the keys and led them upstairs through the elevator to a private suite. Several bellboys were already there opening windows, and Tom ordered for several fans and a block of ice to be brought up. Everyone found a nook to settle in, occupying some place in the small room. It seemed almost claustrophobic in the blistering, unbearable heat.

"Open another window," Daisy moaned in her chair.

"There aren't anymore," Evelyn informed her, refraining from the cold alcoholic drink Tom offered to her.

"Well, we'd better phone for an ax," Daisy whimpered, gulping her drink down.

Nick twirled his glass, watching the ice lazily sway and clink against the walls that held it in. Casually, he raised his eyes to see Gatsby standing by one of the open windows, doing the exact same move…with the exception that he was keeping his eyes on Evelyn. She held a glass full of melting ice, taking a small mouthful and chewing it decisively, her fingers curling tight around the glass handle.

"Quit your moaning, Daisy. For the love of God, it was all your idea to start with-" Tom barked.

"Why don't you leave her be, old sport? The heat's getting to us all," Gatsby suddenly spoke up, earning Buchanan's full attention.

Raising an eyebrow at the man, his eyes narrowed. "…where exactly did you pick that up, hmm? That 'old sport' nonsense." There seemed to be a magnetic force that attracted everyone's eyes to Tom as he spoke in a tone so calm it was menacing. "Tell me, Mr. Gatsby, they say you're an Oxford man."

"Not really," he answered curtly.

"Oh, no?" Tom asked, condescendingly.

"I can't really call myself an Oxford man because I went during my time in the war, you see. It was part of a program they had for some of the soldiers. Were you in the war, Mr. Buchanan?" Gatsby asked, raising an accusing eyebrow at Tom.

His face darkened as he turned away, insulted.

Gatsby pursed his lips and nodded his head, as if to say "I thought not" when he happened to catch Evelyn smirking at this comment, as if in approval to his subtle way of fighting back. The moment she felt she was being watched she occupied herself by tilting her glass and sipping the melted liquid into her mouth. Still, he had seen it, and it made him want to smile.

"Still…I'm awfully curious to know just how you make your money, Mr. Gatsby," Tom said out of nowhere, picking up right where he had left off. "And who you spend your time with…" He cast an accusing look at Daisy and she flinched at him. "You know, people just don't respect family life anymore. They go off and start sleeping with someone else's wife and they start destroying everything that society's built upon-"

"Ha!" Evelyn laughed cruelly, though she knew full well not to get involved. "You're one to talk, Mr. Buchanan. You're no better than anyone else."

"I'll ignore your little outburst, Ms. Keller," he sneered, stalking over to Gatsby. Looming over the man, he strove to intimidate him as he growled, "Just what kind of a row are you trying to cause in my house?"

"He's not causing a row, _you_ are!" Daisy cried, leaping to her feet though her face showed nothing but pure anxiety. "Oh, why don't we go home?!"

"We're not going anywhere!" Tom shouted, now heading for Daisy. Lowering his head to her face, he insisted, "Don't you see what's going on with this Gatsby? With his house and his big parties…he's nothing but a bootlegger, one of Meyer Wolfsheim's gang members. They bring down good people like Walter Chase and destroy them-"

"What he does with his money on his own time isn't any of my doing, old sport," Gatsby informed him. "Besides, it doesn't matter what you say. Daisy loves me and not you – she's leaving you."

Tom's head whipped around to face Gatsby before returning to Daisy, his eyes wide with fear and disbelief. "You're not really serious…?!"

She shook her head, weeping as she tore away from him and ran for one of the open windows. "And why shouldn't I be?! You never cared, not once, about me! I will leave! I…!" She sobbed, covering her mouth in vain to hold back her cries.

"You…never loved me? Not once?" Tom pleaded, his voice sounding odd as it became gentle and entreating. "Not that one time I carried you through the rain so your little feet wouldn't get wet…? Not when we first kissed…?"

She bit her trembling bottom lip, startling to shake her head but stopping, her eyes cast towards the city desperately.

"Daisy, darling, all you have to do is say you never loved him, and it'll all be over," Gatsby whispered sweetly in her ear, his eyes shining with that eternal hope he'd carried with him for so long. At last, his reward, his love would admit that she never loved that monstrosity-

"I _can't_!" she cried, tears staining her face. "I can't say I never loved him, because that's a lie! I loved him once, but I loved you, too! Isn't that enough?! You ask for too much!"

The words hit him in the chest at full force, like the sensation of a sledgehammer colliding into his torso. "…you…_loved_ me _too_?" he repeated, unable to believe that she had led him on all this time, now claiming that she couldn't give Tom up.

Evelyn watched his face, part of her heart crumbling with his as she saw the hurt and realization of what Daisy had said finally sink into his brain. She bowed her head, her hair falling and curtaining her face as a tear escaped her eye. She wept for Gatsby, but she also wept for herself, for she was certain that he would never give up on Daisy.

Daisy's answer may have weakened Gatsby, but it seemed to strengthen Tom. "You see, Daisy could never love you," he sneered. "You're nothing-"

"The only difference between you and me is money, which I happen to have a lot of now, and that's all that matters," Gatsby frowned. "My money's just as good as yours-"

"Wrong again," Tom sniffed, pouring himself another drink. He was confident now, seeing that Daisy could be easily swayed to his side, so he rubbed it in the other man's face. "You see, we were born with this money, this status…it's in our blood. But you…you're a pathetic excuse for a supposed self-made 'millionaire'." He clinked his glass against Gatsby's mockingly, turning around to face the others. He smirked as he caught sight of Evelyn raising her eyes to see them. "So you see, Evelyn, he's nothing more than a liar, a phony, and an absolute idiot-"

His insults were cut short as Gatsby flew into a sudden rage, knocking an entire table over and grabbing Tom by his shirt. Curling his hand into a fist, he screamed, "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

No one dared to move. They didn't breathe, they didn't blink. All eyes were wide in terror and shock as they waited, silently, for Gatsby to move. Nick watched in frightened fascination as Gatsby snapped back into his senses, realizing what he had done. He had a look in his eye as if he had killed a man. Lowering his free arm, he released Tom, his frame shaking as he struggled to regain control of himself. "I…I'm sorry," he apologized to the group, consciously trying to move his disheveled hair from his reddened face. "I'm…so sorry I lost my temper." His eyes locked with Evelyn's, and in seeing the shock in her face he felt his stomach twist in a knot. He was certain that she would hate him for having behaved so, but her look changed to one of apology and sympathy. He felt his heart flutter at the sight of this, thinking perhaps all hope was not lost…

…until Daisy let a frightened gasp escape her lips. Turning, he could see her frozen stiff, her doe-like eyes large with terror. "Daisy…Daisy, please, don't be alarmed," he begged, rushing to her side. "I just lost my temper is all." She ducked her head away from him, her shoulders shaking. She refused to look at him as he apologized, and he began to feel more like a shameful father trying to justify his behavior to a petrified child.

"How do you like that, Evelyn?" Tom sneered, seeing how her face fell the moment Gatsby looked to Daisy. "You know, you're just as pathetic as he is, really. You're actually in love with the bastard, aren't y-?"

A loud, sharp _SNAP_ filled the air, causing everyone to gawk once more at the sound. Evelyn stood before the giant, her hand stinging from putting so much force into the slap as her watering eyes glared at him. "Go to Hell," she ordered, running out of the room before she could do anything else to humiliate herself.

"Bitch!" Tom gasped, clutching his cheek as he watched her run off. "Why, I never-"

"Eve!" Gatsby cried, running after her seconds later.

"Daisy, go with him," Tom suggested cruelly. "It'll be good for you all to have a nice little chat on the way home, won't it?"

Unable to stand his scalding words, Daisy continued to weep as she hurried after the two of them, eager to get away from Tom, at least for a little bit.

"Hmph," Tom muttered, ignoring the glares that came from Desiree. Striding towards the table which contained their drinks, he asked, "Anyone want to take this whiskey home? Jordan? Desiree? Nick?"

The girls shook their heads, still in awe of what had happened.

"Nick," Tom barked.

"What?" Nick asked, his attention snapping back to the brute.

"You want this?"

"No…" he shook his head, his eyes drifting towards the open windows and focusing on the fading sun in the distance. "…I just remembered something…it's my birthday."

"Well, happy birthday," Tom huffed, wrapping the bottle in newspaper.

Desiree arose from her seat, walking to Nick and placing a cautious hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her and gripped her hand in his, wondering what other forms of destruction this day might bring their way…

**~JG~**

She hated Tom Buchanan – no, wait, she _loathed_ him! She wanted to tear him apart and slap him senseless, she wanted to disappear and never be seen again…

Evelyn ran through the streets of New York, not knowing or caring where she ended up. She wanted to curl up and die after what happened. After everything that Daisy and Tom had done to him, Gatsby still wanted Daisy, she was certain of it, and it made her wish she didn't exist, or if she had to, perhaps without a heart or any form of emotion. Hot tears fell down her face as the suffocating heat engulfed her, her lungs feeling heavy after running and crying in the summer air. When she could go no more, she collapsed on the sidewalk, covering her face as she cried. There were few people passing through in the area, but she ignored them. She could still hear Tom sneering at her, still see Gatsby run to Daisy's side…

"EVE!"

The sound of Gatsby's voice made her head jerk up, her eyes scanning the perimeter of the street before her. Getting to her feet, she felt her eyes widen as she saw Daisy driving Gatsby's yellow car, while he in turn leaned out of it, as if to grab her.

"Daisy, stop the car!" Gatsby demanded.

"I don't want to!" she wept, continuing to drive precariously on the road. "I'm not stopping for anyone!"

Evelyn was frozen in place as she watched with disbelief as the car swerved towards the sidewalk to avoid an oncoming car. Gatsby took this chance to stretch out, grab her arms, and pull her off of the street and into the vehicle. She screamed, frightened and determined to get away from the pair of them. "Let me go!" she cried, wriggling in his grasp when Daisy took another sharp turn, causing Gatsby to fall back, dragging Evelyn with him. Another scream escaped her as she was harshly yanked into the front seat, promptly landing on top of him, their noses nearly touching.

Though her heart began to beat happily, she pushed herself off of him and gripped the door. "Daisy, stop the car!" she demanded, wincing as she felt how sore her thighs and stomach were from falling in and being yanked off of her feet.

"I said I don't want to!" she insisted, heading for the bridge as the sky darkened.

"It's not safe when you drive like that, Daisy!" Gatsby urged her, trying to take hold of the wheel.

"I need to clear my mind," she sniffled, roughly pushing his hands away.

"Then take a walk. Daisy, you shouldn't be driving when you're upset," Evelyn snapped.

"Is it true?" Daisy asked, looking over at Evelyn with tear filled eyes. "Are you in love with Jay?"

Gatsby held his breath, looking to Evelyn and seeing how her own eyes, already red from crying, began to water once more. "It doesn't matter, because he only loves you, but I can see that you don't love him that much because you can't make up your mind about anything, Mrs. Buchanan," she answered harshly, looking away from them.

"It's not like that!" Daisy whimpered unconvincingly. "I…care for Jay, I do! But I…"

"Daisy, focus on the road," Gatsby said coolly, pointing to the barren street before them. "Evelyn's right – you ought to remain calm while you're driving." She huffed at him, wiping away her tears as she continued going on, her mind elsewhere. Seeing her reaction, Gatsby shook his head and sighed, scooting over to Evelyn. "We need to talk," he whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder, only to be shrugged off.

"There's nothing to talk about," she stated flatly.

He felt his stomach tie into a knot, his heart aching as he pleaded, "Please, Eve, just look at me, hear me out."

"I've heard enough." The last word came out strained, and he could tell she was crying again.

Gripping her shoulders firmly, he pulled her away from the car's edge and managed to embrace her. "I'm so sorry." His hand went to her cheeks, wiping away her tears as they fell. "Eve, please…please forgive me. I should never have asked so much of you when…when all I was doing was hurting you." She tilted her head, glancing at him before ducking away, ashamed to have him see her as she wept. Pulling her towards him, he kissed her cheek, sending sparks flying through the both of them. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked once more, his heart ready to burst as he waited for her answer.

Slowly, she lifted her head, gazing into his eyes. She could see his sincerity, his shame at realizing what he had been doing to her, and a flicker of hope. A small smile began to grow on her lips as she nodded once. "…how can I not forgive you?"

Giving a breath of relief, he beamed, taking her hands and kissing them over and over again. "Once we get home, we need to talk…I have things about my past, about now, that…you should know."

They were entering the Valley of Ashes now, practically engulfed in darkness. Her brows furrowed at his last comment but she held her tongue. She would wait, as she had been all this time…

Daisy turned her head, a sharp feeling bubbling from within. Of course…how could she have ignored how he had looked at her, at the cottage, when they had danced at his house, at the party when she was singing…they _both_ had feelings for one another! She gripped the wheel harder, the feeling turning hot and angry within her breast. Why should it matter, anyhow? She had just turned him down, after all…Something within her, however, just couldn't accept that he had feelings for anyone else that was not her. It made her bite her lip in aggravation, her foot hitting the gas pedal harder than before.

Gatsby and Evelyn felt it, jolted out of their moment. "Daisy!" Gatsby exclaimed. "What're you doing?!"

"Mind your own business!" she snapped, turning sharply once more as the path became familiar and they headed under a streetlamp.

"Stop, Daisy!" Evelyn cried, watching their surroundings start to blur.

"I told you already, I'm not stopping for anyone-!"

It all happened so quickly. A woman ran out from one of the nearby buildings, jumping into the middle of the road as she waved her hands for them to stop. Gatsby and Evelyn caught sight of this, their faces paling. Evelyn screamed at Daisy as Gatsby grabbed the wheel and tried to move them out of the way. Daisy held fast though, realizing too late that there was an obstacle in the road. In her sudden panic and loss of all sense and direction, she pressed the gas even harder, and the car collided with the body.

A scream ripped loose from the woman's throat as her body was destroyed, flying into the air as she agonizingly died, falling back to earth bloodied and still as the car flew away into the night.

"Oh God!" Evelyn gasped, instantly starting to pray. She could sense Dr. T.J. Eckleburg's eyes glaring down on them as they sped off, only serving to making her feel sick.

"Stop the car, dammit!" Gatsby demanded.

"I can't, I can't!" Daisy wailed, holding her head in her hands as Gatsby took helm of the steering wheel. "Oh, God, that was awful!" She buried her head into Gatsby's chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

Gatsby, keeping one hand on the wheel, patted her head, two emotions conflicting within him as they continued down the dark road. The first was pity – he truly felt sorry for Daisy, wanting to console her…until he heard her mutter, "Her fault…it's all _her_ fault!" His brows furrowed at this, the feeling of disgust overwhelming his pity for her. He couldn't tell whether or not she blamed the woman in the street or Evelyn but one thing was for sure – he was beginning to wonder if he ever really loved this selfish, heartless Daisy at all…

**~JG~**

As Wilson wept, Tom stared in horror at the corpse that had once been his mistress. He could scarcely believe what had happened since they had departed from the hotel.

"It was you!" Wilson snapped, going to strangle Tom, though he stopped him.

"Listen to me! That was Gatsby's car, I was with the others, driving my own," Tom insisted in a hushed tone. "Mines is blue, remember?! Look outside for yourself!"

Nick stood off to the corner, pitying the poor man. Evelyn had told him of her newfound friendship with the mechanic, and it pained him to see Wilson have to suffer more on top of everything else he's been through. He peeked outside, seeing Jordan and Desiree talking and shaking their heads. Desiree looked distressed, causing him to want to leave when he heard Tom whisper something to Wilson.

"That's right, I'm sure it was Gatsby…something ought to be done about a guy like that…"

Wilson stared at him for a moment, his eyes eventually straying to Myrtle.

Tom patted the man's shoulder before leading Nick out of the garage. Squeezing their way past the crowds, he could feel Nick's eyes on his back. "Listen, Nick, it's obviously Gatsby's fault, there were people who stated it was a fancy yellow car," he rambled, trying to justify himself as he fixed his collar.

"You don't know it was Gatsby," Nick frowned. "Besides, there was a witness that said it was a woman driving, not a man."

"Even worse! What if it was Evelyn?" Tom asked, struggling to quickly turn the topic away from himself.

"What if it was Daisy?" Nick stated coolly, wanting to break Tom's jaw for suggesting Evelyn was guilty of that crime.

"Don't be absurd!" he scoffed. "Let's go! This is depressing me…"

Nick wished he could get away from them all, just wipe them away as if they were a bad memory. He was beginning to see that Tom and Daisy were careless people who liked to smash things up and leave the pieces behind for someone else to clean up while they had another romp elsewhere. He sat next to Tom, both of them silent on the way back to East Egg. He could hear Tom's words echo in his mind: "_Something ought to be done about a guy like that…"_

"Nick?"

He blinked, turning to see Desiree standing by the car. Tom was moving away, heading for the house with Jordan close behind him.

"We're back," Desiree said softly, looking tired and sorrowful all at once. Giving her a comforting smile, he slipped out of the coup and embraced her, kissing her forehead before leading her away to the Dodge.

"Nick!" Tom called from the door. "Why don't you come inside? You, too, Desiree."

"No thanks," Nick replied curtly. "I'm going home. I'll take Desiree back, too."

Jordan cast them an indifferent look before entering the house, slipping past Tom as he pouted at them. "Fine, be that way," he snapped, shutting the door on them.

Desiree glared at them before growling. "I can't believe them. They're horrid, absolutely horrid."

"I'm afraid I have to agree," he nodded, holding her close when he heard a rustling from the garden. Suspicion overtook him, images of Myrtles mangled body flashing in his mind. Protectively stepping in front of Desiree, he looked towards the hedge garden and called out, "Who's there?!"

"Shh! Quiet, Nick!"

Evelyn stepped through, her hands up in surrender as Gatsby came behind her, his eyes darting to and fro as if searching for attackers.

"Jay? Eve?" Nick gasped. Overwhelmed with the panic and turmoil of conflicting emotions, he began to yell, "What're you doing here? Do you have any idea what happened?! You ran over that woman, and you didn't even stop! How could you-?!"

"Quiet, Nick!" both girls hissed, glancing towards the house.

"I tried to stop her, old sport, but Daisy was so stubborn, and that woman came out of nowhere-" Gatsby rambled, his eyes shining with pity and truth.

"Wait…! It _was_ Daisy then?" Nick asked, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized neither one of them had committed the crime, but rather tried to stop it.

"Daisy was driving, and upset about…well, everything, I suppose," Evelyn sighed, twisting her hair into a ponytail only to let it fall loose on her shoulder.

"I tried to move the car out of the way, but there was no time, and Daisy kept her foot on the gas…" He shook his head, rubbing his forehead in disbelief at the memory of the traumatic event. "…was there any trouble on the road, old sport?" he asked, glancing nervously at the trail.

Nick shook his head, breathing a little more easily now. "No…it's all right."

Gatsby nodded, taking a deep breath. "…I want you all to come by my place…there are some things I've got to tell you…about myself, I mean."

"Right now?" Desiree asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I want to you all to know the truth about me…you've all been there for me when I needed it most." Desiree and Nick's eyes were immediately attracted to the way Gatsby's hand hesitantly reached for Evelyn's. His eyes locked with hers as he softly asked, "…will you come with me?"

Her fingers curled around his as she nodded, blush appearing on her face.

"What about Daisy-?" Nick started.

"She'll be all right," Gatsby smiled, though his eyes were cold. He cast a glance at the house and Nick could see the disgust in his face, realizing that perhaps some good had come out of this horrendous day.

Looking to Desiree, Nick saw the same realization and elation in her eyes, the message clear: _"Finally! He's letting go and accepting his true feelings for Eve!"_ As a smile began to grow on his face, he nodded to Gatsby and said, "All right…we'll lead the way back home, just in case."

* * *

**A/N:** I own nothing except OCs, typos, and the madness of the plot changes. THANK YOU! Thank you all so much for your encouraging reviews and support. You all rock! Please let me know what you think of this chapter and I will the next one up ASAP. :) Until next time!


	12. The Truth

_Chapter Twelve – The Truth_

His name was James Gatz.

He was the son of a poor farmer in the Midwest, trapped in the dust and despair of poverty, but even since childhood, he knew he was destined for greater things. At the age of eighteen, he left home in search of a better life, journeying out East to make his fortune. Perhaps it was luck, destiny, or the hand of God that led him out to the shore one rainy day, where he caught sight of a yacht that was headed for the rocks. He boldly set out, hopping aboard the precariously swaying vessel, taking charge for a drunken old man who was named Dan Cody. It was after this day that he was taken under the old man's wing and became an apprentice of sorts, and the man came to see him as a son. He educated him, bought him fine clothes, and taught him the ways of being a gentleman. He even fashioned a new name for himself…Jay Gatsby.

Unfortunately, when he passed away years later, his wife managed to swindle his fortune, including young Gatsby's share. Optimistic that things would turn up, he enlisted in the army, and one day, dressed in his fine officer's uniform, he found a delicate, beautiful girl named Daisy Fay. Gatsby never imagined he could fall for anyone, but she made him feel alive, unique, something more than he really was…so he let himself fall for her. Eventually, he was called to the battlefield, and in doing so he left Daisy behind. While in Europe, he fought and planned and hoped, realizing that he had to find a way to become as wealthy as Daisy, perhaps even wealthier. But as time passed, he realized he had to tell her the truth, so he wrote a letter to her which arrived on her wedding day…and it tore her apart. With pressure coming from so many sides, she gave up hope of returning to Gatsby and gave in to what was expected of her.

Once Gatsby returned to America, he found himself struggling to find work. He needed a way to get rich, and fast, and then he found Meyer Wolfsheim…or rather, he found Gatsby. Wolfsheim saw a handsome young man come back from the war, who was dirt poor but sophisticated, educated, and intelligent. He saw the perfect opportunity for the both of them – he would hired and train Gatsby as a protégé, earning a new business partner in the process, and in doing so, Gatsby would find work and make lots, LOTS of money. So poor James Gatz made the official transformation into Jay Gatsby, working, planning, dreaming, and hoping that his efforts would be rewarded. He bought a house across the bay where Daisy lived, and stretched his hand out to the green light, knowing that she would be right behind it…

…until Evelyn walked in. She was a breath of fresh air, a reality check of the sweetest kind, startling and stunning him each time, drawing him away from the green light on Daisy's dock to the green light in her own eyes…

**~JG~**

The sky began to fade from royal violet into tangerine, stars winking into nothingness as soft, thin clouds streaked the heavens. Four figures sat in wicker chairs by the poolside, gazing out towards the bay as they sipped lemon tea.

"…so that's the real story, huh?" Nick asked with a chuckle. "God's truth?"

Gatsby emitted a chuckle of his own, nodding his head bashfully. "God's truth indeed."

"I have to say, Jay, I'm glad you decided to share this with us," Desiree said, offering a playful smile. "…I suppose I should apologize for insulting you incessantly-"

"I should be thanking you, actually," Gatsby grinned. "You only spoke the truth, after all, even if it hurts." He faced Evelyn now, his heart stopping as he gazed at her face. What would she think of him now that he exposed himself? He couldn't blame her if she was angry or disgusted with him – after all, he had done nothing but hurt her, lying about his past and fighting his feelings for her out of stubbornness for a dream that wasn't worth his time, hope, or love.

The worries flew out the door as he felt her hand rest over his, her emerald orbs shining brightly. "I'm glad you told us everything…" Squeezing his hand, she gave a knowing smile. "Now I understand why you called yourself 'James' when I thought you were a gardener."

He laughed, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it for the hundredth time that night. "Yes…there was a part of me that wanted to be honest and say I was Gatsby, but I didn't want to be judged for that…not by you. Since we first met, I knew there was something special about you. No, no, darling! Don't disagree," he protested, seeing her shake her head at his calling her "special". "You're everything to me, Evelyn…I was just too blind and too selfish to see it."

"If you start asking for forgiveness again, I'm going to have to find a priest to cleanse you of your sins," she jested. Reaching towards him, she placed her hand upon his cheek, letting her fingertips caress his skin. "I can't ever stay mad at you for too long, James…or do you prefer Jay?"

"Whatever you like, it really doesn't matter anymore," he smiled, tucking away a stray strand of hair from her face. "Just so long as you know that…that I love you, Evelyn."

Her eyes stung with tears as his words reached her ears, her lips stretching into a heartbreaking smile. "…I love you, too, James Gatz."

Desiree slowly arose from her seat, winking at Nick and motioning for him to follow her, giving the two some distance. Nick obliged, feeling as though a great weight was taken from his shoulders. "It's about time," Desiree noted, giggling as Nick embraced her.

"You're right, it is," Nick nodded in agreement, a sly look in his eye.

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well…" He rubbed the back of his neck, his heart racing as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box and hiding it behind his back. "I've spoken with your parents…I know I'm…well, poor. But I'm planning on returning back West to my family and getting involved in my father's business. I'm…also planning on writing a book."

"You are?! Nick, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, her stormy-hued eyes glowing in delight. "But what does that have to do with me and my parents?"

"I want to be able to have steady, decent work, as well as do something I enjoy on the side, and going back would be best."

"I see," she said softly, her eyes dimming.

"…but I want you to come with me."

"What? How?" Her eyes widened and a gasp escaped her mouth as Nick knelt down and showed her the little box, opening it to reveal a simple silver band with a lone diamond sitting atop. "Nick-?!"

"Desiree Lancaster, will you marry me?" he asked, his stomach flip-flopping as though he was riding Gatsby's hydroplane once more.

"Of _course_ I'll marry you!" she squealed, tackling him with an embrace, claiming his lips with her own. Behind them, they could hear Gatsby and Evelyn cheer and clap, showing their approval of the proposal.

"Herzog! Some champagne!" Gatsby called out.

"Right away, sir," Herzog bowed, smiling at the scene as he left in search of the beverage.

"A bit early for that, isn't it?" Desiree grinned, getting up with her fiancée.

"Ah, but we have good reason to celebrate!" Gatsby stated, holding up his hand as he claimed the excuse for their merriment.

Herzog swiftly returned with the glasses and bottle, pouring a reasonable amount into the flutes before offering them to the group.

"Of course, the wedding probably won't be for a year," Nick informed them. "I want some time to make my own money and buy a house, those sorts of things."

"If there's any way I can help, old sport, just say the word," Gatsby told him, patting his shoulder.

"Well…you could be the best man," Nick offered, grinning as he saw Gatsby's eyes widen in surprise and mirth.

"That settles it – you're my Maid of Honor!" Desiree laughed, embracing Evelyn.

Clapping his hand on Nick's shoulder, Gatsby raised his glass to the air. "A toast to new beginnings, friendship, and love!"

"Cheers!" they all chimed in, clinking their glasses together before sipping the champagne. Herzog collected them afterwards, excusing himself at once before scurrying off.

"You know, I haven't used this pool all summer…why don't we all take a dip in it before it gets drained?" Gatsby suggested, motioning towards the majestic structure, the blue-green waters rippling in the breeze.

"I'd love to, but I need to go to work," Nick said, sending him an apologetic look. "And I have to take Desiree home. I'd hate to have her father on my case for having her out too long."

"Hmph," she sniffed, cracking a smile as Nick pecked her cheek.

"I understand," Gatsby nodded, turning his attention once more to Evelyn. "What about you, Eve?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I don't have a bathing suit, and I've never been much of a swimmer," she blushed bashfully. "I need to freshen up, and call my mother-"

"You can use one of the upstairs rooms, and the phone is at your disposal," he told her, pointing towards the house. "That is, if you'd like…"

Looking to Nick and Desiree, Evelyn nearly laughed out loud when she saw Nick nod his head vigorously while Desiree winked slyly. "I'd like that very much, James."

Chuckling, he stepped forward and kissed her forehead, curling his fingers in her hair as the sun turned it into a waterfall of brilliant chestnut and flaming crimson. "I'll show you inside."

Taking his cue, Nick placed the ring on Desiree's slim finger before offering his arm and leading her back. As they stepped down the path, he stopped, his brows furrowing together for a moment.

"Nick…?" she asked, when he suddenly turned around.

"Jay!" he called out, catching the man's attention. "Tom and Daisy and Jordan…they're a rotten crowd. You're worth the whole damn bunch put together!"

Gatsby let his words sink in, his eyes meeting with his friend's as one of those genuine smiles stretched onto his lips. He raised his hand and waved to Nick, and he returned the gesture. They turned and walked away, moving towards two different houses with their beloved women. Nick felt content as he strolled down to his cottage, as though the sunrise was bringing the promise of a new era for them…though for some reason, deep in the pit of his stomach, he felt as though there was unfinished business, and something ominous was headed their way…

**~JG~**

"Oh, darling, I'm so happy for you!" Rebecca said through the telephone line as she spoke with her daughter. "And for Nick as well, of course! Wait until I tell his mother!"

"I think she might already know, but go ahead," Evelyn laughed, popping the phone into place between her ear and shoulder as she piled her hair onto her head in a bun, grimacing at the bathing suit laid out on the bed. She felt absolutely naked for even considering wearing such a revealing outfit, and she couldn't even swim for that matter…but James entreated her to join him and she just couldn't say no.

"No funny business, young lady," her mother scolded her. "This may be a modern world, but I won't have you going off to sleep with this Gatsby-"

"Mother, he wouldn't do that to me," she rolled her eyes. "Besides, we already had a chat about that…and I think…" She bit her lip, remembering how he had commented that Nick's wedding may be followed by another in the future. "…I think he may want to marry me."

"WHAT?!" her mother gasped, a mix of delight and shock filling her voice.

"Not right away! Besides, we still need to get to know one another better…we've only just realized that the feeling is mutual. Anyways, James – or Jay, they're both the same person, really, I just like 'Jay' as a nickname for him, you know – says he wants to invite you to New York so we can all get to know one another."

"I'd like that very much," Rebecca said, her voice light and warm, showing her approval and excitement.

"I can't wait for you to meet Desiree and James, and see Nick again, and-OH! You have to meet George Wilson. He's a mechanic, and a friend of mine. He's…recently lost his wife, actually. I'm going to call him after we finish."

"That poor man," murmured Rebecca. "Well then, I won't keep you any longer."

"The ticket should be arriving in the mail any day so start packing," Evelyn reminded her.

"I will, dearest," laughed the woman. "I love you, Eve. I'll see you soon."

"I love you too, Mom. Bye." Placing the phone back in its cradle, she grunted in dismay upon seeing the bathing suit once more. "Oh dear God…" Swiftly, she slipped her clothes off and painstakingly placed the one-piece lacy garment over her frame. "This is underwear!" she exclaimed. She knew it was old-fashioned to think that way, but she just couldn't stand the thought of showing off her legs or having something on her that hugged her skin so tightly. Letting her hair fall loose, she sighed and picked up the phone once more, dialing the garage telephone number. Placing it to her ear, she waited, hoping that perhaps he would pick up. After several minutes, she finally gave up and put it down. "Maybe he's with a friend…or at church?" She shrugged, saying a prayer for the man as she grabbed a rose pink robe and covered herself with it. "Here I go…"

Stepping out into the hall, she made her way to the staircase when she noticed a shadow lurking through the ballroom. She frowned, her mind telling her that something wasn't right. Taking her slippers off of her feet, she set them quietly on the floor and tiptoed down the stairs, cautious not to make too much noise. As quickly and silently as possible, she kept up with the shadow, noticing as she got closer and hid behind a pillar that it belonged to a man.

"_He must have slipped through the door,"_ she realized, knowing that there were no more servants to stop him at the door or ask him what he was doing. Daringly, she slipped away from her cover and placed her bare feet upon his shady trail when the sunlight slipped through the open bay doors and glinted upon an item he held at his side.

She nearly gasped aloud, her hands flying to her mouth as she saw the pistol in his grease-stained hands. He wore filthy overalls and his hair had been mussed up for some time now. "Oh God, no!" she whispered, the force of this new-found knowledge striking her with intensity. _"George is going to kill James!"_

The phone Gatsby had ordered outside rang, prompting Herzog to attend it. In the cool aquamarine waters of the pool, Gatsby's head emerged as he grabbed the bars of the step ladder. She could see George Wilson proceed to pull the pistol out, pointing it directly at Gatsby's back.

"God sees everything," George muttered, his finger moving for the trigger.

"JAMES!"

The sharp, thundering sound of a bullet shook the air, its whistle causing Gatsby to flinch and duck instinctively back into the water.

"NO!" George cried as he was shoved away, tripping over himself and tumbling down the stairs of the outdoor balcony.

Evelyn frantically looked out, only giving a breath of relief once she saw Gatsby's head bob out of the water, his torso twisting to see what was going on.

"My God!" Herzog gasped, his body hunched over as a reaction to the bullet, the phone pressed to his ear. "Mr. Carraway, it's Mr. Wilson!" he shouted into the mouthpiece. "He's gone mad!"

"George! Listen to me!" she cried, running down the stairs as she saw him painstakingly get up and grab the gun once more. "Stop it!" she demanded, flying straight for him.

"EVE! Get away from him!" Gatsby cried, climbing out of the water as quickly as he could.

"Leave me alone!" Wilson cried, torn between wanting to weep and wanting to fight back. He resisted at the feel of her hands overlapping his, forcefully struggling to yank the gun from her hold. "Go away, Evelyn!" he ordered, his finger finding the trigger once more.

"No!" she shouted, wincing as the gun sounded off once more. "Jay Gatsby didn't kill Myrtle – it was Daisy Buchanan, Tom's wife!"

"Shut up!" he demanded, finally pulling free from her. "You don't know anything-!"

"I was there!" she said, feeling a sharp pain in her side as her vision started to go blurry for a second. "Jay tried to stop her-!"

"SHUT UP!" he screamed. With one swift movement, he freed one hand and threw his arm out, slapping her cheek and temple so hard that it forced her to fall backwards, collapsing into the pool. It wasn't until then that he saw the blood from her side seeping into the robe, her eyelids shutting as she was swallowed by the water.

"EVE!" Gatsby cried, leaping into the pool once more.

"Mr. Carraway, she's been shot! Yes, Evelyn! I need to call the doctor at once! I'm sorry!" Herzog gasped desperately, slamming the phone down before picking it up again and dialing the number of Gatsby's private physician, all the while keeping a wary eye on Wilson.

He fell to his knees, his hands shaking as he stared at the gun. "…my God…what have I done?!" he wept, tossing the gun aside and scrambling for the poolside.

Deep within the waters, Gatsby sliced his way through, wrapping an arm around Evelyn's torso and tugging her towards the surface. He tried to ignore how her blood lazily drifted around them from her wound. Breaking the surface, he coughed and sputtered as he strove to reach the poolside.

"Oh God, she can't be dead!" Wilson begged to no one in particular as he helped Gatsby pull Evelyn out and lay her on the ground. "Oh, Evelyn, I'm so sorry!" he cried.

"Help me," Gatsby choked, his eyes brimming with tears. His heart felt as though it had been pierced by a knife, his entire frame shaking uncontrollably as he looked to Wilson. "Help me get her upstairs…I'm begging you."

Seeing the fear of losing the girl in his startling blue eyes, Wilson knew it had been a mistake to even consider what Tom had told him about Gatsby. He nodded firmly at him, asking, "What do I do?"

"Towels…we need towels. They're in the closet just down the hall," Gatsby ordered him, gathering the unconscious figure as delicately as he could. Following Wilson inside, he glanced back towards the beautiful sun setting the sky ablaze with color. _"God, if you can truly hear me…please…don't let her die!"_

**~JG~**

_She shivered, over and over and over again. No matter how hard she rubbed her arms, she was always cold. It was dark, and she could feel water surrounding her, pushing her gently out to…to where? Where was she, anyway? It was all so surreal…she was alone and frightened, absolutely clueless as to what was happening. She could feel a faint pain along her right side and temple, making her want to sink into the waters and drown…_

_Up ahead was a soft, glowing light…a green light…and it seemed to call to her. The current continued to push her towards it, and she could see no reason as to fight against it-_

"_Eve!"_

"_Jay…?" Lifting her head, she faced the opposite direction of the green light, and was stunned to see Gatsby swimming towards her. _

"_Eve! Stay with me!" he called out to her, sounding so distant, and yet if she just reached out…_

_She kicked against the current, causing the pain to shoot throughout her whole body. Grimacing and moaning in pain, she fought on against the current, her arm extended to him. "Jay…Jay, help me!" she cried, tears falling from her eyes into the endless dark ocean that separated them. _

"_Don't give up on me!" he pleaded, struggling as much as she was, slowly closing the gap between them. "I love you, Eve!"_

_Her heart thumped within her breast, making her kick harder as she restlessly used her arms to paddle through the waters. "I love you, too!"_

_The green light began to glow dimmer, and dimmer, while their hands reached out and their fingertips touched…_

"-gAAAH!"

A strangled cry erupted from her mouth as she was suddenly jolted back into reality, a mixture of stinging pain and numbness spreading throughout her side while her temple pounded like a drum. Hot tears fell down her cheeks as she felt the overwhelming pain until a hand touched her cheek.

"Eve?"

Forcing her eyes open, she found herself staring into Gatsby's worried eyes. He was dressed in a wrinkled button-down shirt and slacks, his hair disheveled and his attention completely on her. The room was dimly lit by lamps, and she could see shadows standing nearby.

"Jay…" she croaked, a weak smile coming to her lips as she reached for his face. "You're all right- ugh!" She winced, her side on fire as she moved her arm, compelling her to let it lie still on the bed.

"Of course _I'm_ all right! But you nearly got yourself _killed_!" he exclaimed, gripping her hand gently as he brushed her hair away from her face. "Thank God you're all right...you're going to be all right, Eve, I promise you that. I promise…" He was shaken from the ordeal, practically having a nervous breakdown. She would have laughed if it didn't hurt so much. "Why did you do that?" he whispered, lowering his face to hers. She could see his eyes watered and it shocked her to see him ready to cry…he was going to cry over almost losing her! "Why…?!"

"Because I love you," she murmured, her tears never stopping as she gave him a bittersweet smile. "I love you and I can't live if you die."

"Well it's a package deal, Eve! You can't just…! You can't just get yourself killed to keep me alive…there's no point for me to exist if you go!" he choked, placing his hands on either side of her face. "I love you, Evelyn…I love you!"

A sob escaped her when all she wanted to do was laugh and hug him. "Hold me," she begged, closing her eyes as he gently lifted her up off the bed.

"Ah ah-!" a third voice gently scolded him.

"Please," Gatsby snapped at him. "Just a minute…" Sitting on the edge of her bed, he brought her to his chest, cautious of her stitches as he pressed her to himself. Stroking her hair, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, loving the feel of her hands on his chest and shoulder. Cradling her head in his hand, he tilted his head and inclined it towards hers, the feeling so strong that he couldn't hold it back anymore. "…I love you, Eve," he whispered just as his lips brushed against hers.

She felt a hundred bolts of lightning shoot through her as a soft wave of bliss overtook her senses. She melted in his arms, grabbing onto his shirt for support as he simply pressed their lips together in a sweet, innocent first kiss. Pulling away reluctantly, he pressed his lips to her forehead before gently setting her back down on the bed.

"James-" she whimpered, grabbing his arm.

"Don't worry, darling, I'm not going anywhere, I promise," he reassured her in sweet, hushed tones, stroking her cheek with his knuckles.

"You're very lucky, Ms. Keller," the third voice spoke up once more, stunning her. Standing at the other side of the bed was an elderly man in a white coat, fixing his spectacles as he stroked his moustache at her. "Most people wouldn't have survived that shot. It was very close to your vitals, but as I said, you're extremely lucky." Handing a slip over to Gatsby, he chuckled and said, "Just follow these directions. I'll be back in twenty-four hours to see her again."

Gatsby nodded at the man. "Thank you, Doctor Gilbert. Herzog, show him out, won't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Gatsby," the butler's voice responded from the darkness.

Evelyn could hear footsteps shuffle out the door before three more figures arrived at the bed. "Nick…Des! What are you-?"

"We came as soon as we could," Nick told her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Nick was on the phone calling the house when Herzog started to freak out and there were gunshots," Desiree explained. "At least, that's what he told me when I called. I came with my butler and sent him home. Nick, Mr. Wilson, and I are staying the night."

"George?" Evelyn echoed, taken by surprise once more.

The final figure showed his face at last, his eyes red from crying, his head bowed in shame. "I'm…I'm so sorry…Evelyn, could you ever-?"

"I forgive you," she said softly, raising her left hand to him.

He stepped closer, taking her hand in his. Giving her a small, apologetic smile, he said, "They explained everything…I know the truth now."

"I tried calling the Buchanans but the butler told me they had left for Europe all of a sudden and didn't say when or if they would be back," Nick informed her. "They've run off again."

"Let them run," Gatsby said, tucking his beloved under the covers. "They can't run away from the past forever…" Kissing her lips once more, he murmured, "Just close your eyes and rest now, Evelyn. We're all here for you."

"Was I out the whole day?" she asked, noticing how dark it was.

"Pretty much," Desiree nodded. "But you were shot, and having an operation done."

She nodded, sighing as she surrendered and gave in to their advice. "Just…don't leave me by myself…"

As she drifted off, she could feel Gatsby's fingers curl around her own, raising her hand to his lips as he whispered, "Never."

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your encouraging words! I realize the last one may have been a little tedious because it was pretty much the same from the book but I hope you enjoyed this one. Please let me know what you think and I'll see you all next time! :)


	13. The Surprises

_Chapter Thirteen – The Surprises_

Meyer Wolfsheim sipped his whiskey as he watched the dancers twirl provocatively on the stage. He stroked his moustache thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to make ends meet when he felt a hand tap his shoulder.

"Hope I'm not interrupting you, Meyer."

Looking over his shoulder, he grinned and opened his arms. "My boy!" he exclaimed, getting up and embracing Gatsby. Clapping him on the back, he said, "So, what's this 'urgent matter' you wanted to talk about, eh?"

Motioning for him to sit, Gatsby sat beside him at the table. The speakeasy suddenly had lost its flair for him, and he was eager to get out and back home to Evelyn as soon as possible. "Meyer…you're been a very big help to me, I couldn't have gotten anywhere without you. I want you to know that…"

"Ah, I had a feeling this was coming," the Jewish man chuckled, shaking his head. "You want to leave the business?"

"The bootlegging, yes," he nodded, his voice firm and full of resolve, causing Wolfsheim to gawk at him. He'd never seen anyone with such fire and authority tell him that he wanted to leave the best kind of business there was at the time. "However, I do recall I have my own small businesses that are doing well and-"

Wolfsheim laughed merrily, cutting him off. "Ah, yes, those tiny little firms that you took on when you first started working for me. You were so stubborn and asked me to give these people a chance, so I gave them to you as presents. You want to give up the liquor business and stick with small, family owned businesses?"

"They're a source of honest and hardworking income, and that's what I want from now on."

"Ahh…it's the lady, hmm? Gave you a conscience?"

"Not the lady our thinking of, but yes…" Gatsby smiled, his mind drifting towards Evelyn, relieved that she was recovering quickly in the past few days. "I love her with all my heart, and I want her to be proud of me."

"I see," he nodded.

"That, and I have to…disappear, so to speak," he added. "I'm sure you're heard of those claims made by Tom Buchanan-"

"The automobile accident where that lady was practically run over, yes," Wolfsheim nodded, his words making Gatsby grimace. "A pity, truly pity. I suggest you get your lawyer on this."

"Already have."

"Then I see you have just about everything planned out," he nodded in approval. "You were always one step ahead, my boy. But you realize I can't be associated with you once you leave and stop working for me."

"Of course."

"Then I shall start looking for someone to fill your shoes." Getting up, the two men shook hands and looked each other in the eye. "I wish you luck, my boy. To you and your lady."

"Thank you, Meyer. I wish you the best as well," Gatsby nodded, squeezing the man's shoulder before bowing his head respectfully and walking out as quickly as possible. Climbing up the steps and slipping out the door, he found himself outside once more in the stifling heat and walked to Nick's old Dodge parked on the curb.

"How'd it go?" Nick asked, fixing his hat as Wilson faced Gatsby for an answer.

"I told you Meyer would understand," he grinned, getting into the car with them. "What did you think he was going to do? Throw me into the Hudson river?"

"Maybe?" Wilson replied bashfully.

Gatsby laughed at this, patting the man's shoulder.

"What does this have to do with me and George anyways?" Nick asked, starting the engine and pulling out onto the road.

Gatsby cleared his throat, side glancing at them before staring out at the road. "…with everything that's going on, Nick, I've decided to take your advice…I need to disappear."

Both Nick and George gawked at him, stunned by his words. "What exactly are you saying?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

"I'm planning on joining you out West. I have some small companies, family owned business that are…let's say 'clean' of my previous job, shall we?" he chuckled ruefully. "Anyway, I'd like to link one of them with your family's hardware business. The gentleman in charge is in need of support, and he's a bright fellow. I've already contacted your father and he's open to meeting him. He would be your second in command once you start working for your father and if he gets hired."

Nick felt his stomach churn with excitement and nerves. His father was pleased with his decision to take on the family business, and now he just might be getting an assistant to help him. "That's fantastic, Jay! I know Mr. Lancaster will be pleased with this news-"

"Mr. Lancaster is actually going to meet with us all once we make it there, and that's where you come, old sport," Gatsby cut in, turning his attention to George.

He blinked, stunned at being included in the scheme. "Me?"

"You're a food mechanic, George, and a good man," he said, holding up his hand as the other started to protest. "If you're interested, George, Mr. Lancaster and I want to start a garage business. More and more people are moving west, and there are more cars than ever before, and they all need maintenance and gas. It would be a new beginning for us all. What do you say?"

Wilson felt his eyes water at his words, struggling to maintain his composure. "…after everything I did, you're offering me a second chance?"

"We all need a second chance," Gatsby said comfortingly, offering his hand to him. "What do you think?"

Hope shone through his tired eyes as he gripped his hand and shook it firmly. "Thank you… thank you! I won't disappoint ya, sir!"

"It's Jay," he grinned. "Or James, whatever you prefer. What about you, old sport?"

"How can I turn down such an incredible offer?" Nick laughed, releasing one hand from the weld to grip Gatsby's. "The girls are going to be so excited-"

"No, don't tell them just yet," Gatsby ordered them. "I want this to be a surprise. Hopefully by this time next year if all goes well, we'll be able to stand on our own two feet and marry our sweethearts."

"You're full of surprises, Jay, even after everything we've been through," Nick chuckled. "Speaking of which, I've got my own surprise in the works."

"What's that?" George asked.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

**~JG~**

"Are you excited to see her?" Desiree asked, brushing Evelyn's hair as they sat outside by the pool.

"Yes… and nervous," Evelyn admitted, wringing her hands anxiously.

She patted her friend on the back in sympathy. She understood Evelyn's worry – having to stay in bed or a wheelchair was something that would make anyone question what had happened. They had told her mother on the phone that there had been an accident, and a frantic man entered the house with a gun, planning to shoot Gatsby, but Evelyn had gotten in the way and the man ran off before they could get a good look at him. They didn't mention who it was or why he did it, but at that point Rebecca was just grateful and relieved that her daughter was alive and well.

"Hey, we're back!" they heard Nick shout as the men stepped through the house and went out to join them.

"Hello, Nicky," Desiree grinned, accepting his kiss.

"Nick, George! You made it back," Evelyn smiled, her heartbeat accelerating as she felt Gatsby tuck her hair behind her ear. "James…"

"I told you we'd be back before your mother got here," he chuckled, kneeling beside her and kissing the corner of her mouth. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too," she giggled, wincing as her side began to ache. "I can't wait until the stitches go."

"All in good time," he reassured her.

"Mr. Gatsby, Ms. Rebecca Berns-Keller is here," Herzog announced.

From behind the butler stepped in a beautiful middle-aged woman, her russet hair piled atop her head in a bun, her bright green eyes taking in everything she saw. Though she wore a simple calico dress, she held herself straight and tall. Her eyes sparkled upon seeing her daughter, a charming and heartfelt smile gracing her face. "Eve!" she cried, rushing down the steps and straight to the girl. "Oh, sweetheart!" she gasped, bending over to kiss her face and embrace her tightly. "I've been worried sick about you, let me look at you!" She saw how her daughter's face seem to glow, a smile permanently etched onto her lips as her friends and beau stood by. "I see you're in good hands," she noted.

"Mom, you remember Nick," Evelyn stated, motioning to her childhood friend.

"Nick, dear, you're changed so much," she beamed, embracing the man and kissing his cheek.

"Glad you could make it, Ms. Keller," he chuckled, accepting the kind gestures. "This is my fiancée, Desire Lancaster."

"I've heard so much about you from Evelyn," Rebecca smiled, doing the same to Desiree as she had done to Nick.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Ms. Keller," Desiree responded, grinning at the woman. "Welcome to New York."

"Mom, this is George Wilson," Evelyn said, waving to the dumbstruck man.

George couldn't help himself as he gawked at the woman. She was stunting and kind, and the way she smiled made his stomach twist in a good way. "H-How do you, ma'am?"

"Hello, Mr. Wilson," she said brightly, offering her hand. She blushed as he kissed it, throwing her off-guard.

"And this is James Gatz, also known as Jay Gatsby," Evelyn added, patting Gatsby's hand.

Taking the woman's hand in his, he kissed it and smiled his charming smile. "I'm so glad you finally made it," he said truthfully. "I've been anxious to meet you."

"Likewise," Rebecca smiled back. "Eve has told me lots about you… looks like you've made up your mind after all."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, glancing at Evelyn who blushed. "Yes…there's only one person who had my heart from the beginning…"

She watched as their hands touched, their fingers curling around each other's as their eyes met. She couldn't help herself as she wiped a tear away from her eyes. She knew those looks all too well – she had shared them with her first husband years ago. "Well," she said, looking over the estate. "You certainly have an impressive home, Mr. Gatsby-"

"Please, you can call me Jay… or James, whichever you prefer," he chuckled.

She giggled, nodding her head. "In that case, James, call me Rebecca. I'd love to see the rest of your home."

"Then let's have a tour," Gatsby suggested with a playful grin, motioning for them all to return to the house.

Together, they walked their way up the ramp that had been built for Evelyn's wheelchair, chattering and exchanging smiles and laughter when Herzog greeted them at the bay doors once more. "Mr. Gatsby, sir, Mr. Gatz has arrived."

Evelyn watched as Gatsby's face snapped towards the doors, utter shock showing in his face. She bit her lip, uncertain whether or not he would accept his father. She had wanted it to be a surprise for him when she decided she would call him up and had Nick explain everything as she drifted back to sleep one evening. It was thanks to Herzog they had found the number amid Gatsby's other contacts.

Out stepped a frail old man, his face wrinkled and withered, hardened by years of hard labor in the dusty Western air and the unforgiving sun. He wore simple clothes clothes and shuffled in on weak shoes he'd had for ages. Warily raising his eyes, his gaze met Gatsby's.

They stood there, silent, unmoving, until his father broke contact and murmured in his deep, raspy voice, "…I…I didn't mean to interrupt…I was just leaving-"

"Pa," Gatsby said softly, his blue eyes gentle and filling with tears that he was uncertain whether it not he should show.

At the sound of the name, the old man looked back to his son, the same look showing in his sad, hopeful blue eyes. "…Jimmy. I've missed you, son."

"I've missed you, too, Pa," he choked, a shaky smile growing on his face. Hesitantly, he stepped forth, closing the gap between them. Cautiously, he reached out to the elder, lowering his hand onto his shoulder. The moment he did, the old man attacked him, wrapping his arms around his grown child as he finally wept. "My boy… my boy…!" he cried over and over, causing Gatsby to surrender as well, his tears spilling as he embraced old man Gatz.

Tears came to her own eyes as she watched, her fingers swiping them off of her cheeks. Turning, she caught sight of Nick glancing her way, his own face teary-eyed with emotion. "We did good," she sniffled.

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "No, _you_ did good."

**~JG~ **

The stars were twinkling in the night sky as Evelyn gazed out, the cool air hinting at a change in the seasons soon enough. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she leaned back into the wheelchair, a contended smile on her face. The day had gone by in a blur, but marvelous memories had been made. Gatsby and his father had reconciled and resolved to become close once more; Evelyn had the chance to catch up with her mother and introduce her to the Lancasters, who dropped by around dinnertime, and were delighted at the prospect of earning a new son-in-law; Evelyn had even taken notice of how her mother and George were acting like shy schoolchildren towards one another. She smirked at the thought of her mother and George becoming an item…

"Busy thinking?"

She felt her heart speed as Gatsby came around and gently kissed her cheek, kneeling beside the chair. "Nick told me it was your idea to bring my father."

"I'm sorry, I know it was last minute and I should have asked-" she began to apologize, when he placed his lips to hers, silencing her words.

"Thank you," he whispered, caressing her cheeks. "I haven't seen him in years…and I was planning on…some surprises I wanted him to be a part of." She raised an eyebrow at this, suspicious of his schemes. "Well, I won't tell you everything…but I will tell you this," he said, placing his hands over hers. "I want you to be proud of what I do, so I'm searching for other forms of employment…God willing, I'll be able to provide enough in a year for the both of us to…to be together."

He watched her cheeks go pink, her eyes widening at the news. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he produced a golden ring with an emerald standing erect at the center. "I hate to look like I'm stealing Nick's idea, but…Evelyn Keller, will you marry me in one year's time?"

Tears spilled from the corners of her green eyes as she laughed and embraced him, ignoring the pain in her side. "Of course I'll marry you!" she cried, beaming as he took her face in his hands and sweetly kissed her lips. He could feel his skin tingle as they shared their precious kiss, his heart ready to burst as bliss washed over him.

Cheers from within the mansion erupted, causing the two of them to separate and wave at their family and friends inside. Giggling, Evelyn wiped her face clean with her knuckles as she allowed him to slip the gem onto her ring finger.

"I have to warn you," he said somberly. "We won't be living here, or even in a house as grand as this-"

"I don't care about the money, Jay," she shook her head, brushing his hair away from his face. "As long as I have you, that's all that matters."

He gazed at her, his eyes full of love and happiness. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so completely content with everything. "That's good news, because with everything going on…Jay Gatsby's going to have to die, and James Gatz will need to come back."

"Not necessarily."

The two raised their heads to see Nick stopping at their sides, slipping his hands into his pockets as he grinned impishly at them. "I've gotten inspiration for writing a book, based on everything that's happened to us this summer. It'll be a way to keep Gatsby alive and expose people like Tom and Daisy."

"You're going to write a book?! Nick, that's fantastic!" Evelyn squealed, taking his hand in hers.

"Do you have a title in mind, old sport?" Gatsby asked, extremely interested to see just what exactly Nick had in mind.

"I do…but it's a surprise."

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your encouraging reviews! It means so much to me, and I apologize for the short chapter and not getting it out sooner, my brain's been on the fritz XP Anyways, I'm estimating about another two chapters before the close of this fan fiction and I do want to thank you all again for all your support and interest! Please let me know what you think and I'll see you all next time! :D


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